Rebirth
by Trapped in Reality
Summary: There's just so much stuff going on that you'll just have to read it. OC. Human!Transformers. Torture. R&R!
1. Stupid Brain

**This is my first Transformers Fic. Post Movie. Tell me if I get anything wrong.**

Fire, screaming, pain, suffocating smoke, taste of energon. The crash came back into his mind: the jets dropping the bombs, the ground Decepticons blockading the exits, Sam Witwicky screaming in despair. Then, the searing pain as Starscream nose-dived straight into him, and the screaming of bending metal and snapping cables. He was the first to be hit. He shouldn't have been so stupid as to assume that the fighting would stop because the Allspark was gone. He shouldn't have been so stupid to believe that more Decepticons wouldn't arrive on Earth. He should have been able to see these outcomes. He had put his team in danger. Now they relied on human technology to put them back together again.

Such a thought to consider. He remembered his last thought of painful bliss as he felt the Well of Sparks tug him home, but he was also saddened that he let his soldiers down. But much to everyone's dismay, they did not wake to see the Well, but to see over-sized humans peering down on them, and then to find flesh instead of metal.

With immense effort, Optimus forced his eyes open, clearing his mind from his thoughts. Eventually, he needed to learn how to control his new muscles. Muscles were vastly different from gears and wires. This new brain of his acted upon "impulses" which were nothing like his CPU coding. Now as a human, he owned a long face with tired eyes and a crooked nose. In all of this, he felt small, though he still towered over everyone. The close, white ceiling seemed to shrink closer. Another thing he disliked: human vision is so easily deceived by simple illusions. He blinked the image away and listened to the steady beeping of the heart rate monitor. It was a strange, calming noise. Three other monitors beeped with his.

He wasn't sure what he should be feeling now. Grateful to be alive, regretful about their current state, hopeful that other Autobots might also be out there, enraged that John Keller didn't ask for their consent before experimenting, relaxed that all seemed to well for the others. Humans were emotional creatures. Optimus wondered how much more he could take of the sudden mood swings.

Someone grunted. They had quickly realized that talking was hard without knowing how to use vocal cords and form the words with a mouth. Anything that had to do with voluntary movement was near impossible. Stupid brain. Keller said they were trying too hard on moving and should just rest and get used to being in a foreign body.

Optimus strained himself to look over to the others occupying the custom-made hospital room. The room was originally four, tiny hospital rooms, but Keller had the walls bulldozed so that the four could be in the same room. Optimus was grateful for the ability to see his soldiers.

On the far left, Bumblebee, now a chubby blonde teen, laid watching his heart rate monitor. Ironhide (now exhibiting a square chin, sunken eyes, and a dark complexion) was next to him, and he appeared to be asleep. Ratchet (now with squinty eyes, a huge nose, and white stubble) was the closest to Optimus. Ratchet had figured out how to sit up somewhat on his arms, but his arms were wavering under the new weight. He stared straight at Optimus. Optimus grunted in reply. Ratchet's mouth hinged open and wavered as a wheezing noise escaped his throat. Ratchet tried to form some words, but eventually gave up and thudded back to his bed, irritated.

Optimus tried to make an encouraging noise, but he didn't know how the other perceived it. He rolled back into his usual position of staring at the ceiling. He grunted in displeasure as the air conditioning vent above his bed blew cold air down on him. A nice cool circulation was fine, but his new skin was so perceptive to hot and cold. The thin blankets and the barely there hospital robe didn't help, either. Somehow, he needed to convince the regular staff that comes through the room to give him actual clothes. A jacket would be nice. For now, he'd have to endure.

Loud, authority footsteps walked down the hallway. Keller's back? Optimus glanced at the doors as a shadow passed under the first two doors and stopped in front of the third. The door creaked open without a knocking. No, Keller always knocked before entering. Suddenly the door slammed against the wall as…

Someone enunciated a terror-filled squeak, though Optimus couldn't tell whom. All he could think about was Simmons standing in front of Ironhide, grinning his face off.

"Hello again," he paused for effect, "I have good news! This hospital was stupid enough to sell me this hallway! That means anything in this hallway is mine. You all are mine!" He waited for some sort of response as he nodded and shifted his weight to his heels. "Quiet aren't ya?" His eyes slowly scanned the room, relishing the fear in their eyes. He placed his feet back on the ground. His eyes stopped on Bumblebee, and he grinned. Ironhide growled as Simmons stepped closer to Bumblebee. Simmons ignored the growl and leaned over Bumblebee. "You're the one who… "lubricated" on me, aren't ya?"

He grinned wider and guffawed. He grabbed the front of Bumblebee's gown as Bumblebee tried vainly to shove him off. "It's pay back time!" Optimus stared in horror; what could he do? Something, anything! There was nothing.

A commotion shifted Optimus's attention to Ironhide who was currently on the floor.

"How cute! Baby's first step! What do you think you can do?" Optimus watched in horror as Simmons looked at Bumblebee with a dark look in his eyes.

--New scene—

"What do you mean I can't see my friends? The Secretary of Defense told me that I could see my friends today! You don't believe me? Call him!" Sam Witwicky exclaimed as he tried to bypass the security guard standing in front of the Autobots' hallway. The woman held out her arm to prevent his effort.

"I'm sorry, kid, but I cannot allow you to pass. As for your statement about the Secretary of Defense, I highly doubt that Mr. Keller even knows you! Good day, kid!" With that, she shoved him off her arm.

Sam walked away, rejected, but not without sneering at the woman. His brow scrunched in thought. Something wasn't right here. If she were government, wouldn't Mr. Keller tell her about him? He entered the next hallway, which was filled with people. He walked quickly so he couldn't hear the conversations coming from some of the open doors.

"…I'm sorry, Mrs. Sophie, but the cancer has spread in your husband's body…"

"…But there are other options to consider…"

"…Give me back my wife, you murderers…"

"I'm serious, Sakura! A Mustang police car did try to run me over!"

What? Sam stalled in front of that door before considering it stupid and continued. He glanced into the room, though. On the bed was an older woman, about forty, with two mirroring bandages on her cheeks and one on her upper right arm. Many different tubes stuck out of her arms and face. Her long, black hair was greasy due to lack of washing, and she had small, piercing, blue eyes. The nurse's back was to him, and under the lighting, her hair appeared to be pink.

Sam continued to walk, but stopped to lean against the wall to hear the patient's next words. "The car was evil! It was black and white and—"

"Most police cars are black and white, Melinda," the nurse exclaimed irritably. A rustling noise.

"Let me finish," Melinda whined. "It had an insignia written on it: To enslave and destroy! How much eviler can you get?" Sam's eyes widened. Barricade! Why was Barricade running over random humans then taking them to hospitals? Unless, she's not a random human, and he was caught in the act! Still, what made her so special?

Someone sighed. Sakura. "I think the medication is getting to your head. Get some rest, and I'll see what I can do about your happy pills."

"I hate that! You never believe me on anything important! And you wonder why I don't tell you anything!" There was a pregnant pause. "And I hate eavesdroppers," she announced in a convicting tone.

Sam froze; she'd caught him. Some shuffling. Sakura poked her out the door and blinked at Sam. She had dull green eyes and had to be in her late twenties. Even in the hallway, her hair looked pink. Perhaps it was dye.

Her eyes narrowed. "Is there a point for eavesdropping, boy? Hear something interesting?" There was a small, threatening note in her voice. She raised her chin at him in disdain.

"Oh, uh, no! Nothing interesting, but uh, you should believe your friend about…the police car. Uh you two are friends, right? I was just making an assumption and uh…" Sam stopped his rambling and glanced at Melinda.

Melinda eyed the newcomer distrustfully, debating something in her mind. Curiosity won. "Where did you see the police car?"

Sam looked past Sakura to Melinda, focusing on her. "Oh, uh, around. There was this time where he threatened to rip out my intestines. The driver I mean." He jerked as a hand fell on his forehead. He looked quizzically at Sakura, who returned the stare.

"Hmm, no fever. Are you on drugs?" She asked apathetically as she removed her hand. "Hold that thought; I have an errand to run." She turned to Melinda with scorn. "Don't blow up anything while I'm gone." Then she left.

Sam felt the blood rush out of his face. "Don't blow something up?" he whispered.

Melinda shrugged her shoulders then winced in pain. "I hate hospitals. I threw equipment out the window once. So, why are you at a hospital? Obviously not just to eavesdrop." Her eyes darted around the room but always somehow on him, as if to keep an eye on him.

"You—you threw equipment out the window?" he asked as he walked into the room. He sat in a chair. Something about her, perhaps the fact that Barricade attempted to kill her but saved her, made him want to stay. He needed to know why. Curiosity always wins.

She flinched at the closer distance between them. "Yeah, and there was this one time that I wrote a suicide note, then hung all my wires outside the window and hid in the bathroom." She stopped to giggle. "Yeah, they didn't enjoy me jumping out of the bathroom screaming. One of the doctors fell from the window in shock." Her face grew serious. A pause. "What do you know about that police car?"

Sam paused. What was too much information? She had a right to know. How much before she laughs in his face or she becomes another Simmons? Then again, for Barricade to even consider targeting her… "Uh, well, I don't know a lot, but uh. _About the driver_," he tried to steer the conversation away from the car.

"You're lying," she pointed out blankly and prodded for more information. "What do you know about my attempted killer?"

"Well, when you put it that way…" he muttered but refused to give her any information. "I don't know how much I'm allowed to tell you…" he stopped before he sounded corny.

Surprisingly, her eyes lit up, as if something clicked in her head from his statement. Sam couldn't help but think the response a little suspicious. She stared at the doorway as she continued to piece together whatever what was floating in her head. Slowly, she asked sweetly, "So, why are you in a hospital? Who did you visit or whom were you going to visit?" She returned her attention back to him.

The question took him off balance a little. "Well, I came to see my friends in the next hall, but some government chick told me to go home, then I heard you talking about Barricade running you over. Oh crap!"

Melinda pushed herself into a sitting position. "That's the name of my attempted killer, huh? Barricade," she said the name as if tasting it and scrunched her face at the strange name. Quickly, she threw out another question. "So your friends are in the next hallway?" She asked as she stared at the wall as though she could see through it. Compassion glittered her eyes. Possibly fake.

"What? Oh, yeah, they too got into a … car crash sort of thing," he started. "I think Barricade had something to do with their crash as well." An image of Optimus with a jet sticking through him flashed through his mind, along with Barricade gutting his Camaro. He eyed her wearily with this piece of information. Suddenly, he didn't trust himself giving her any more information. She had Barricade's name, and she seemed satisfied with just that. Sam sighed and looked at the clock on the wall. He needed to go soon, but first, "What do _you_ know about your attacker?"

She looked offended at the question and just stared at him with distrust. Nothing rolled out of her mouth.

Sam sighed in frustration. "Look, it's been fun, but I have to leave before my parents roast me alive for being late to dinner again. Bye."

"Can I have your name at least?" she asked. Sam stood up and froze as he saw Agent Simmons pass the door. It all happened within seconds. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw Melinda lean over the bed railing and puke. Sam turned back to her and then ran into the hall to call a nurse, but Sakura was already in the doorway. He cautiously followed her into the room after looking for Agent Simmons. He wasn't in the hall anymore.

"Hey, Sakura! I made it to the trash can!" Melinda giggled still leaned over the railing.

Sakura grumbled under her breath and shoved Sam out of the room.

Sam smiled and waved as he left the room. "Sam Witwicky," he called out. Tomorrow, he'll return with Mr. Keller to straighten out that security guard and figure out why Agent Simmons was here.

**What do you think? Please review so I'll know if I should continue this or not.**


	2. Intensive Care

**Since people seemed interested in this, I decided to continue. Thanks Witch08 and Dragolover1!**

Ratchet stared at the ceiling above his head, willing the horrible memories from the afternoon away. Little light came from the four windows. The moonlight danced with shadows outside. The room was quiet, but no one was sleeping. Everyone was still in shock about what Simmons had done to Bumblebee.

Ratchet silently grunted as he shifted so he could see the blonde. The kid was curled in a tight ball shivering. After Ironhide's failed attempt to tackle Simmons, everyone only sat in dumb horror as they watched Simmons conduct great sins upon Bumblebee. What could they do? Ratchet wished it was only his human over-active imagination that imagined the sickening sound of bones crushing and Bumblebee's screams of immense pain. Of course, somewhere in the middle, Simmons pulled out a strange device that ripped Bumblebee's vocal cords without ripping his throat open. After his torture spree, he used the device on everybody else. Ratchet doubted that Bumblebee could move on his own anymore.

It just didn't seem fair. Bumblebee finally found his voice only to have it ripped from his throat again. Then again, the fact that he was sitting on a hospital bed didn't seem fair either. The humans had no right to experiment on them. He'd rather die than willingly let this happen again. Though, how this happened still remained a mystery. Neither Keller nor anyone else would tell them anything. He understood on some level what they accomplished in their eyes: they played "God." He's read about many humans corrupting themselves by playing "God." Not that Ratchet believed in any of the diverse religions founded on this planet. He only wished that didn't happen to the humans that now possessed their bodies. It unnerved him to be so helpless. And how did they plan to put the Autobots into their original bodies? And when? He could barely move! He couldn't live like this for too much longer.

They could at least let him oversee the reconstruction. Those humans don't know what to do with Cybertronian circuitry. They would do more damage than good. The only humans who would know what to do… _no, Keller did not_. Sector Seven would be the only humans with any familiarity with Cybertronian circuitry. However, Secretary of _Defense_ John Keller wouldn't dare to allow Simmons access to their shells, would he? But, how else could he explain Simmons's appearance this afternoon?

Far into the night, Ratchet couldn't help but notice none of the staff came by later. No one came to give them dinner. Nobody came to help Ironhide back into his bed. He was still on the floor trying to get up. Ratchet watched him as he tried in vain to at least sit up. Ratchet had to squash all thoughts of trying to help him for fear of being stuck like him. Ratchet knew from the beginning that Ironhide would be the first of the four to walk, but he couldn't have imagined it under these circumstances.

And Optimus… Ratchet scanned his leader's body. He'd pull himself into a stupor after Simmons left. Ratchet couldn't think of anything to pull him out, so he left him there. That left only two stable bodies left: Ironhide and himself. Ratchet forced his hand in front of his face. Sleep was out of the question, not with the vivid images that followed him into sleep, a new annoyance. So, he would learn how to use this body. Slowly, he watched his fingers curl into a fist. It was a start. He twitched his toes. By morning, if he hasn't pulled himself into exhaustion, he should be able to pull Ironhide's huge body back into bed. Hopefully.

Something in the back of his mind said he was only fooling himself, and that since Simmons was starving them, he should be saving his strength. But for now, he ignored this thought.

Bumblebee silently groaned in pain. He hurt all over. Places he didn't know existed hurt, even his insides. Any movement sent waves of pain through his body. He felt body fluids leak out the new wounds. Most of them had scabbed over, but one or two still oozed blood. His thighs hurt the most. Wasn't the femur the strongest bone in the body? How did Simmons break both of them? Of course, Bumblebee had no knowledge that the bones were broken, but the intense pain! He wished he could scream. There was nothing he could do. He felt so helpless.

_Simmons leered close to his face_. Bumblebee shoved the image out of his mind. Why did humans have to be so mentally unstable? He suffered through worse pain as a mech. His human brain made the situation worse as it played the scene over and over in his mind: continuous torture. Simmons' nails, his leering smirk too close for comfort, the strange metallic device that ripped at his skin… He lived through the pain incessantly over the past hours. Why must his brain keep bringing it up?

The air conditioner kicked on. The cool breeze played with his tattered gown and stung in his open wounds. He didn't have the strength to pull the blanket over himself, so he shivered painfully in the invasive air. He hated being like this.

He'd imagine being human meant hanging with Sam and Mikaela on a new level, not spending his time in this disinfected torture chamber. Neither of them had visited the Autobots. The scout assumed that Simmons played a major part in that. Simmons didn't seem like the type to allow visitors to see his new play toys. No, Simmons was going to keep them all to his self. They had to escape, somehow. They couldn't just walk out: none of them knew how to walk. With Simmons keeping guests away, a rescue party seemed unlikely. Why did muscles have to be such a nuisance?

A small tear leaked from his eye. He blamed it on his humanity. Mechs don't cry.

—New scene—

Sam Witwicky traveled down the same hallway from yesterday. He waved at Melinda as he passed her door. She lazily waved back. She had fewer tubes than yesterday. She must be recovering quickly, or she pulled them out. He didn't dwell on those thoughts too long. He was on a mission.

He called Mr. Keller last night; he spent two hours through the loops, but he eventually got Mr. Keller's answering machine. Today, Sam decided to confront the security lady once more. Obviously, Mr. Keller had time to talk some sense into her.

The security guard stood stoically. She grimaced as she remembered Sam. "I'm sorry sir, but you still don't have access to this hallway. Leave now."

Sam nodded and turned around, plan in mind. He took two steps before he whirled around and charged for a small gap beside the wall. The security guard sighed and lifted her arm, and he hit her arm and slammed to the ground.

"Ohh," Sam groaned as he painfully lifted himself off the ground. "That went well," he grumbled to himself and sulked off. This wasn't fair! He needed to see the Autobots, to see Bee and know he's okay. He leaned against the wall and looked at the parallel one. He'd told his parents that he would be here a while, thinking that he would actually see his friends.

He landed back in Melinda's room. "Hey, Melinda! Remember me?" he stopped himself before he started rambling. One day he's going to learn how to kick that habit.

She looked up from the drawing pad in her lap and smiled at him. "Yes, the awkward teenager from yesterday. How are you, Sam?"

He shrugged, still sore from running into the guard's arm. "Been better. Though I suppose I can't complain to someone in a hospital bed," he half-grinned. "So, I notice that you have less tubes and wires than yesterday. Getting better?"

"I'm too doped up to care about it anymore," she shrugged. She frowned at her sketch pad and flipped to a new page.

"So, what are you drawing?" Sam asked to restart the conversation.

She reflexively brought the drawing pad to her chest. "Doodles," she replied guarded.

Sam nodded as another lull in the conversation formed. He glanced out the door and spotted two hospital security guards escorting Sakura. Melinda nodded in her direction. "That's Sakura Haruno, my roommate." Sam nodded and dismissed the information. Melinda continued, "So, your friends are still in intensive care?"

"Intensive care?" Sam stared. "What? No, um. You see, if I told you, I would have to kill you," Sam tried to sound like he meant it.

Melinda giggled. "You're not the type. You've probably never seen any action, boy."

Sam wisely did not deny the false assumption. It's better to keep his mouth shut before he rambled again. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Agent Simmons passing by the door and cradling his hand to his chest. He deserved it. Sam should find the guy responsible and congratulate him.

"So, tell me about Barricade, please," Melinda asked after the silence, eyes on the door.

Sam twitched in nervousness. "Uh, um, well, I don't know how much to tell you because, well, most people won't believe it."

"Isn't that always the case? Nobody believes the truth." A pause. "Throw the curve ball anyway. I've lived my share," she added strangely.

Sam paused. Would the Autobots get mad that there's one more who knows the secret? She does have the right to know, but the Autobots still have the right of privacy. But the question is: which one's more important? He held the silence, hoping for a change in the conversation.

"Fine, then, don't tell me," she whined. "I don't want your brain to explode with indecision. All that brain matter splattered against these clean sheets, bleh."

Sam jerked at her statement in amazement. Many thoughts swirled in his mind. Could she really read his mind? How was it possible that she could read his mind? Wait, his car is an alien, and he's dumbstruck by the fact someone can read his mind.

"So, you can read minds?" Sam blurted, hoping he didn't sound stupid.

Melinda blinked at the question and gave him an odd look. So, she couldn't read minds. How did she know what he was thinking, then? "I don't necessarily read minds, but I have something similar: facial expressions. They gave you away," she added with a smile. "And I suppose you have seen some action; you didn't wince at the brain splatter comment. I'm sorry for doubting you, but you still can't kill me," she somewhat apologized. She grunted, frustrated. "At least tell me if Barricade is in the habit of running people over and, if so, what is his type."

Carefully, he responded, "He tried to run me over once. He didn't like my car." He stopped before he said anything about the death match. Images of the recent battle entered his mind. _Barricade flipped Bumblebee over his head with his hand in Bumblebee's gut. As he released the yellow mech, circuitry and wires sprinkled from his grasp._ Sam shook the memory away.

Her brow scrunched as she frowned. "Thanks," she replied, confusion lacing her voice. Slowly, her mind tried to piece the puzzle together. She groaned. "Maybe I should stop reading and crossing streets at the same time."

—New Scene—

Metal clanged to the floor, ignored by the others. Metal screeched as it was pulled at the seams. Wires snapped under pressure. Uniformed humans scrambled like cockroaches as projectiles landed dangerously close to them. Starscream ignored the cockroaches and dug his hands deeper into Optimus's carcass. The Allspark fragment had to be here somewhere.

One of the cockroaches cleared his voice in annoyance. "Can you at least try to look like you're repairing them? If Keller walks in now…" he trailed off, studying the scrap metal that littered the floor.

"Perhaps you shouldn't make promises you have no intention of keeping," Starscream shot back as he ripped a hidden compartment at the seams.

Simmons went rigid. "That's what you're for," he pointed out harshly. "Repair the Autobots, and we'll give you the Allspark fragment."

"What do you think we're looking for?" Thundercracker snarled at the flesh bag. "Starscream, sir," he addressed his leader as he stood, "the Allspark fragment was not on the medic." He motioned to the pile of green-painted metal.

Simmons gaped and forced out untranslatable noises. He pointed at the remains, anger too great for words.

Barricade stood from his pile. "The scout does not have it." He smirked at Bumblebee's remains. He rather enjoyed shredding the annoying mech. Too bad he couldn't hear those screams of agony.

Starscream stood. He had hoped the Allspark fragment would be on the leader, but he had tried every possible and impossible location. He frowned in thought. Soon, Skywarp stood and announced his findings, or lack thereof. If the Allspark wasn't with them, then where was it? "If it is not here, then we have no need to stay," he proclaimed.

Simmons acted predictably. "You can't leave! You promised to fix the Autobots!" he hissed.

"For the Allspark, which is obviously not here," Starscream countered.

Simmons crossed his arms. "I know exactly where it is." He paused. "I'm not just going to hand it over to the guy who betrayed his own leader, though. You'll get it when I see what I want to see." He smirked, thinking he had won.

Starscream stood in thought. "Soundwave," he drew his attention to the silent form in the shadows, "can you use telepathy on organics?"

Simmons faltered. "Negative," Soundwave replied. The smirk returned.

Simmons waved airily as he turned to leave. "Good luck!" He laughed victoriously. Starscream watched his retreating form. Simmons won this fight but not the war. All he needed was a little patience for the Allspark to make itself known. He grimaced. Patience was never his forte.


	3. Strange

**Not to confuse people, this chapter is happening somewhat at the same time as the last chapter.**

Ironhide had pushed against the floor multiple times during the night. He had vainly stretched out his arms, trying to grasp anything in reach to pull himself up all night long. Finally, his energy was spent, and he leaned against the wall, defeated. He closed his eyes and listened to Ratchet's fumbling around. He had a plan; Ironhide knew it. Ratchet's movements were strained, and occasionally he wheezed as he tried too hard, but Ironhide knew he was planning an escape in that wonderful head of his.

Somewhere in the early morning, Ratchet's movement died down. His energy was spent as well. Ironhide thought of anything that could be useful from being stuck on the ground. The first sun rays streamed into the room and reflected off the metal handles of the doors. The doors. Ironhide stared in wonder. What if he could crawl to the door and open it? And find help? His mind was already coming up with possible conflicts to the plan. What if Simmons put guards outside the doors? Guards would only drag him back into the room and put up more security. But getting rid of said guards would be tricky. Another thought floated into his mind. Knocking anyone out would be next to impossible, but Simmons couldn't have bought the entire hospital. No, there must be someone out there who would help them. If the guards caught him, he would have to make a racket and bring attention from the hospital staff. Ironhide grimaced. Bringing attention to himself counters everything he was taught as a soldier. But he would need the attention to save his comrades.

Ironhide glanced at Bumblebee's shivering form. Obviously, Bumblebee isn't going to be the only victim. Who would be next? If this plan worked, no one.

Should he bring weapons of some sort? The idea brought conflicting issues. Weapons would be good. Maybe something to throw. But, with his body uncontrollable, throwing things might bring the wrong attention. Ironhide didn't doubt that his aim would be way off. No weapons.

Ironhide eased himself to the ground, and positioned himself for an army crawl. After hours of flopping on the ground, he was quick to realize his arms were more responsive than his legs and also seemed to have more muscle. He heaved his body along the room's floor, panting all the way. Halfway, his body screamed stop, but he ignored until his arm hit the door in front of his bed. He collapsed and panted more heavily. He felt a pair of eyes watching him.

Ironhide shifted himself so he was leaning against the wall beside the door. The sun had pulled itself from the horizon already, and light had poured itself in the room and chased out the darkness. Ratchet was sitting up in his bed, staring at his achievement with awe and encouragement. Ironhide smiled as Ratchet swished his hand as if to shoo him away.

Ironhide grabbed the handle and slowly opened the door. He glanced out cautiously and frowned. There was no one in the hallway. No one. Not even regular staff. Caution swept in as he felt himself be led into a trap. Down to the right, a door with an emergency exit sign glowed faintly. To the left, the hallway curved, blocking his view of what might be there.

Cautiously, he crawled into and down the hall to the left. Every once and a while, he would glance behind him. He sidled to the wall as the curve came closer. He pulled himself to a sitting position as the curve came and scooted to the edge. It was here that he realized the curve was shaped like a U. He rounded over to the next edge and sat, rested. His body was so exhausted from this expedition.

He brought his hand to his face. It was shaking uncontrollably from exhaustion. He glanced down where his hand had been. There sat a pool of clear moisture. Strange. Was he leaking? He brushed his arm against his brow because his brow had become sticky with the same strange, clear substance. What was he leaking? He panicked. Was this normal for humans to leak? Strange. A small breeze passed him, calming him, and he felt oddly cooler than he should have felt, or at least what he thought he should have felt. Perhaps this strange liquid was some sort of coolant that used this planet's weather to cool of the body. When the breeze ended, he noticed how heated his body had become from his trek. How strange.

Ironhide shrugged off these thoughts. He would think about it later. Now, he needed to get help. He inched his head around the corner, looking for any kind of danger. There was a guard standing in front of the entrance of the hallway. One guard? That couldn't be all of them. He looked past the guard and locked eyes with a nurse. The liquid was now running freely down his face. The nurse's dull, green eyes widened as she mouthed, "Oh, my—"

_THUD_! Ironhide groaned as his vision swam and immense pain throbbed from the back of his head. The only coherent thought before he blacked out was _What was that?_

—New scene—

Agent Reggie Simmons stormed down the hospital hallways, scaring many of the people there. But his mind was elsewhere. How dare they try to escape! He's going to keep them locked up! How bout that! He was glad he had put a guard by the exit door to catch that idiot.

His mind wandered through the many things he wanted to do with them. Yes, they were mere rats in a maze for what he had planned. He was going to see how much their pitiful, new bodies could take. Every extremity would be explored. First, though, he was going to make an example of the one who tried to get away.

He nodded at the security guard, Jessi Goldfeather, as he walked past her. He knew she nodded even if he didn't see the motion. She always nodded when he passed. He rounded the corner and paused. A door was open. Shuffling from inside and a feminine murmur caught his ear. Who was that? Certainly not one of his people. He quieted his steps and crept to the open door. He peeked in and noticed a nurse and a food cart out of place.

"I'm sorry sir, but visiting hours aren't until another fifteen minutes. Please leave," she asked softly. She was hunched over the one who lubricated on him. All the others were eating a breakfast from the cart.

Reggie bristled. How dare she have the nerve to tell him what to do! How did she get in here? Wasn't Goldfeather supposed to keep the staff out? He eyed the one to the farthest right. He was having difficulty eating. The other two were doing just fine. So, the one who escaped must be one of those two.

"Did you hear me, mister? Leave, now," she stated more firmly.

"How did you get in here? You are unauthorized to be here. You should be the one who's leaving," Reggie inwardly smirked as he thought he had her cornered. She didn't budge from her spot.

He took and step closer and grinned as the blonde one flinched in fear. "Please leave sir. You are upsetting my patient," she said in a monotonous voice. Reggie's grin disappeared.

"You do know that I can get you fired for being here right?" She didn't respond. Frustrated without a response, Reggie pulled out his gun. "Get out of my hall," he threatened.

She glanced at the gun, and then continued her work… or whatever she was doing. She pressed her hands on Lubricator's thigh, as if willing the bone to heal itself. "You do know that guns are against hospital policies, right? I can get you permanently kicked out."

He pressed the gun to her head. "I asked nicely the first time. Now get out of this room." He could feel her tense under the gun. A strange, faint glow that seemed to be in the room faded. She turned to face him.

Quicker than he could react, she grabbed his hand and flipped the gun out. He cried out in pain. When she released his hand, he took a few steps back. "You're going to regret that, girl." He held his hand to his chest, wanting the pain to cease. Then it occurred to him that he couldn't move it anymore. She broke his hand!

Reggie growled in annoyance. "I'm coming back with security!" He was unnerved by the smile she wore at his statement. He stormed down the hall and grabbed the black-haired woman. "Call security. There's a mad woman down there." She blinked at his command. "She broke my hand!" She nodded gravely, pulled out her radio, and made the call.

Two staff security guards came quickly with two doctors. The doctors immediately began to fuss over his hand. "She's down there," he answered as they asked where the nurse was. He used his other hand to point. They ran down the hall and returned quickly with her. Too easy. Reggie narrowed his eyes. She came down with a faint victory smile, and the security guards escorted her as if they were escorting someone of great importance. He brushed off the doctors and walked into the large room. Everything seemed to be in order. The only difference was that the blonde one's cut that he had inflicted on his cheek was missing. Strange. And she left the food cart.

He locked the doors and returned to the fretting doctors. She had to have done something. How did she even get there? His narrowed on Goldfeather. He whispered softly, "You're fired."

She blinked. "Did you expect me to let you starve them?"

"Your orders were not to allow anyone unauthorized to go down there."

"She is authorized. All hospital staff can go anywhere in the hospital."

Reggie huffed. It would take at least a week to heal his hand. Guess the aliens will have to wait until then.

—New Scene—

Today was not a good day for Sam. Spending much of the morning listening to his principal drag out what was supposed to be a fifty-minute speech about welcoming a new school counselor (or something like that), Sam witnessed nearly two hours of Mr. Wartgnash harassing the student body to quiet down. He wasn't complaining about missing chemistry or most of computer class. However…

He glanced at the football jocks behind him. They laughed to themselves, and one blew a kiss. Sam knew it wasn't directed at him. Resentfully, he draped his arm around Mikaela. They only laughed harder. Mikaela only looked forward, stony-faced. Such tactics were below her. "Hey, he crashed the car, it's time to dump the nerd," the largest one called out. "Time to go out with a REAL man," Trent called out. Mikaela made a show to yawn and leaned "innocently" against Sam's shoulder. Of course, the football players all laughed at Trent, saying variants of, "Oh, you got burned."

A sickly-old teacher snapped her fingers at the couple mouthing, "No PDA." Grunting, Mikaela got off but scooted closer to Sam, leaving no space between them. The teacher death glared them but said nothing.

"And without further ado, Mrs. Antigone," Mr. Wartgnash announced as said woman climbed to the podium and started talking. Great another hour wasted…

By the time the student body was released, second block only had five minutes left. Sam sighed as he shoved books into his locker. What was five minutes of computer anyway? He could linger in the halls for a while, perhaps edging towards the cafeteria for first lunch… The brunette blinked in confusion as he found his head inside his locker and a meaty hand on the back of his neck. And giggling and laughing at his expense. He really didn't want to deal with this right now. He braced his hands the sides of his locker waiting for the idiot to push him back down. Trent did as expected, and Sam pressed against the hand for show. What Trent wanted was for Sam to push with all his weight so that the football player would release the hold and Sam would tumble to the ground. It didn't take a genius to figure that one out, so Sam applied fake pressure, and Trent released his neck. The laughing stilled in confusion since the nerd wasn't on the ground as expected. In fact, Sam didn't even stagger.

"Do you know why the last counselor was fired?" Sam asked casually to rub salt in the wound, as he crawled out of his locker.

Taken off balance, Trent replied civilly, "She played hooky too many times. Then she never showed up all last week." Angry that Sam had outsmarted him, Trent tried another tactic: one that Sam wasn't prepared for. A huge clunk resounded through the hallway as the locker door made contact to the back of Sam's head. The laughter resumed then faded as everyone went to class.

"Yeah, wonderful," Sam muttered as he rubbed the back of his head. He closed his locker and only until then noticed Mikaela standing on the other side. She was staring at the bump he knew was forming. "Kiss it and make it better?" he asked with a goofy smile.

She rolled her eyes. "I can't make it tonight. It's going to be tomorrow night."

Sam nodded in consent. "Sure. See ya then."


	4. Uncontrollable

Bumblebee sat up in his bed. It was the only movement he could do with a broken leg. The nurse from two days ago had only partially healed one leg with her weird green glow before the hospital security guards escorted her out. That woman scared him. She broke Simmons's hand effortlessly. Her medicinal practices also scared him. It wasn't modern practice, whatever it was. After he realized she was helping him, he calmed down about her touching him, but the green glow still unnerved him. After the… Simmons incident, Bumblebee hated people touching him, even Ratchet when he caressed his hair in a comforting manner and handed him whatever was found edible on the cart.

All the perishable foods had perished. But the nurse had left dry cereals and canned plants hidden on a lower shelf. Ironhide and Ratchet threw out all the perished foods in the dumpster lying outside the windows. The canned plants were awful at room temperature, but it was food, fuel, so Bee ate it. Ratchet kept the cart hidden in the large bathroom by Optimus's bed for when Simmons returned with more of his strange machines.

Optimus had stopped eating yesterday, no matter how hard Ratchet tried to shove it down his throat. Bee couldn't understand why he had stopped. The food wasn't that bad, and Optimus must know that he's needed as the leader here in this situation. Everyone was at a standstill until he could free himself of his daze. Unless, Optimus had given up, dooming everyone else. But Optimus couldn't give up; it wasn't in his nature. It must be that he's grieving for his soldiers. That has to be it. Bee was sure of it. They only had to convince him there was no reason to grieve. Better said than done. Bee sighed.

Ironhide was the main victim yesterday. Simmons was angry about his broken hand and released his anger on him. But no broken bones. Only Bumblebee suffered that. However, a strange red liquid kept pouring out of him in many places in a large quantity. Blood, if his memory served him correctly. Ratchet had panicked and hysterically looked for something to plug all those holes. Sam said that blood equals life, and Ironhide's life was pouring out of him at an alarming rate. Bee wanted desperately to help in anyway, but all he could do was stay out of the way. Finally, Ratchet resorted to pressing the bed sheets on the wounds to stop the bleeding. Ironhide survived. Ratchet had given him a look that said, "Don't you dare get out of bed" when the bleeding stopped.

It was quiet. Bee hated the silence. He wanted to listen to the others conversations and jokes and join in. No one could even _grunt_ anymore. The only sound came from Ratchet trying to pull Optimus out of his daze and the few occasional birds singing by. Bee envied the birds; they could sing without a care in the world and go wherever they pleased. Bee wanted to trap a bird in the room somehow and listen to its song endlessly, but the bird doesn't deserve to be locked in a cage.

As if to grant his wish, a songbird perched itself outside his window. The bird watched him curiously, as Bee did the bird. Then the bird threw its mouth open and sang its heart out. Bee closed his eyes and listened to the bird's strong, beautiful song. He wrapped himself in those long notes of freedom, wishing join in song. He blinked as he thought he heard a mournful note. Why is the bird sad? He has freedom. Bee opened his eyes as he heard feathers fluttering. Another bird had joined the first and begun to sing in harmony. The mournful note disappeared. Bee smiled. Suddenly, the birds took off, singing and dancing in the air. Bee reached out as if to stop them from leaving, but the birds took no notice of him. Bee sighed as he brought his attention back into the room.

Bee watched as Ratchet shook his commander senseless. He needed to help somehow. It was because of him that his commander was in this stupor. Bee thought of anything to get Ratchet's attention. He caught Ironhide's gaze. Bumblebee pointed at Optimus, hoping that Ironhide would understand the gesture. Ironhide sat up and turned towards Ratchet. Ratchet whirled around, storming towards him, and shoved him back down, giving him the "stay down" glare. Ironhide pointed to Bee who still had his finger extended. Ratchet comprehended what was trying to be said, and he unlocked Bee's wheels and rolled him next to Optimus. He brought down the side railings juxtaposition and relocked the wheels.

Bee reached out and patted his commander on the cheek but received no response, but he slapped it until it turned bright red and stopped. Optimus's eyes were open but not seeing. It was like he was dead, but the steady rising of his chest stated he was alive. Bee scooted a little closer, so he could pat the other cheek bright red. Still no response. Bee looked at Ratchet pleadingly, but Ratchet's back was to Bee as Ratchet scolded Ironhide for reopening his wounds. After stopping the blood again, Ratchet went to his own bed to rest. Bee just sat helplessly as he watched his commander's chest rise and fall. _This is the only sign that he's still alive_. Bee's eyes stung with a new liquid that clouded his vision, and he barely noticed that his breathing became more ragged.

He watched Optimus's chest rise and fall for an hour, all the while thinking of something to wake him up. He couldn't come up with anything that didn't require disturbing the others. Ratchet needed sleep, and Ironhide couldn't move. Bee blinked. That had to have been his imagination. Was it his imagination, or was Optimus's breath shortening and growing shallower? Optimus was dying in front of him, and he couldn't stop it. Optimus had given up in his world. It seemed unlikely that he would be rejoining this world. Enraged, Bee slammed his fists into Optimus's chest, willing the lungs to continue their steady pace. He knew he had Ratchet upset from his action, but he didn't care. Optimus was dying with no sign of recovering.

Bee's body began to shake more uncontrollably, and he noticed a drop of something on Optimus's shirt. Another drop landed near it. Bee looked at the ceiling to figure out what was causing the drops. A drop landed on his hand. He brought his hand to his face. His face was wet. His eyes were leaking. His eyes were leaking! He fell into hysteria and collapsed on his commander's chest, and the dam that was holding back all the tears crumbled on the impact. He sobbed and soaked the cloth as the rapids flooded past his eyes.

But it was in this hysteria that he felt the chest rise and fall deeper and longer. His commander was coming back! He was coming back! Bee smiled softly as his body tried to control the outbreak and pulled him into a sweet dream with no Simmons in sight.

—New scene—

Secretary of Defense John Keller emitted an exasperated sigh and rubbed the sleep from his face. What a trying week. John racked his brain for any solution, but received none. How did they get into this position?

First, the new alien allies wrecked into each other, and now, a psychotic man has complete custody of them. It seems that after the government pulled out its funds, Agent Simmons found enough private funding to continue Sector 7. Rumors state that he made a deal with the few Decepticons left on Earth, but John doubted the Decepticons agreed. The true problem arrived when no one in the military had the expertise to reconstruct the fallen Autobot's bodies, except for Simmons and his crew. No official deal was made, no paperwork signed, and no proof that the government allowed him anywhere near the machinery, but Keller's conscience knew.

The clock on the wall ticked away the seconds. It was currently eleven at night.

John sat at his desk, staring at the schedule book in front of him. He and his secretary worked on it for hours, trying to open a space to visit the Autobots, but the closest time they could come up with isn't until next week. John hoped they could hold out until then. They have to, or…

"John, I think you need to go home," his secretary stated quietly from behind the door.

John rubbed his face again. He needed to get home before he fell asleep at this desk again. He yawned and laid his head down on his desk. He'll leave soon, yes soon. His eyes drooped and closed.

His eyes flashed open. He rubbed his face as he leaned away from the desk. He pushed himself from his chair and walked out of his office. He snatched a cup of coffee and downed it before leaving the building and getting into his car.

All the way home, he strained himself to stay awake behind the wheel and rejoiced as he pulled into his driveway. He never made it to his bedroom; he passed out on the couch, dreaming of plots to help his alien allies.

But he couldn't remember any of them in the morning.

—Enter the Decepticons!—

Thundercracker eyed the humans crawling about Hoover Dam with mild interest. They scurried around like this planet's ants. He wondered if they were as easily squished. Their new commander, Starscream, eyed him with warning as if he heard his thought. The blue jet smiled innocently and waved. The other jet ignored it and returned to watching the humans scurry about.

Though Thundercracker had hated the idea of submission to him, Starscream had proved himself as a better leader than Megatron was. He wouldn't say it out loud, for fear of Soundwave's wrath, but he enjoyed the new change. Starscream was always thinking things through, finding possible flaws, and pointing out errors to be fixed. With Megatron, it was always "who cares," and if Starscream mentioned obvious flaws, Megatron would beat him into submission, and after the flaw becomes known, Megatron would beat someone for not finding it sooner. Starscream had yet to abuse anyone, even Soundwave when he challenged his position. Barricade, Skywarp, and Thundercracker were already used to the idea of Starscream being their leader and ready to defend his position. However, when the others landed, Soundwave had his many Casseticons and two Constructicons who were loyal to him. They were about to battle each other when Starscream stopped them and said, "When was the last time you three saw another Decepticon?" They paused, for had to be eons ago. Starscream announced, "If you haven't seen another Decepticon, then it could be the very fact that we are last ones. Why lower our numbers even more with useless squabble amongst ourselves?" The Constructicons understood the logic and joined Starscream's side, but Soundwave didn't accept it. He stormed off with his Casseticons and only returned for the energon supply. Starscream didn't beat him into submission or anything of the sort; all he did was accept him back.

One of the humans walked toward the new leader as if he were in charge. He paused, as if to humble himself, then asked, "You Decepticons have many interesting weapons that I would like to study. If I may ask, can a group study one the small ones' weapons?"

Starscream didn't pause to think about it. "No. Weaponry has nothing to do with the Allspark you promised us. We have yet to have proof that it is even in your possession. You have the Autobot carcasses for studying _after_ the Allspark project is over."

The humans' short attention span miffed Thundercracker. They couldn't stay with a project for more than a month, and now they're asking for a new one. He watched in amusement as the human blinked at the rejection. Obviously, this human wasn't used to being rejected.

"But, sir, uh, may we have a small one to study afterwards then," the squishy started, but Starscream interrupted.

"No," he replied with such finality that the human nodded in submission and stalked away, muttering under his breath.

Starscream watched the human until he was too small see and stood up. He transformed into his F-22 raptor form. Thundercracker stopped him before he took off. "Lord Starscream, may I join you?"

The jet paused, considering the possibilities. "Fine."

Thundercracker transformed and took off after his leader, eager to do something. It was boring at the dam. The two flew in silence. Thundercracker watched a gleaming ocean pass under them as they crossed it. "If it's not too much to ask, where are we going?"

"We are going to find Scorponok," was the reply, and nothing else was said until the ocean was replaced with sand.

"Wouldn't he have died without Blackout?"

The leader nosed down until he landed safely on a sand dune. Thundercracker repeated the action. "Yes, he did, which is why he will shut the humans up with their stupid nagging of weaponry." Thundercracker blinked his optics. Surely the leader isn't caving in after one pestering. Though the humans are known for their stubbornness. They transformed and searched the dunes for the robotic scorpion.

"Do you think they'll succeed in recreating the Allspark? I mean they only studied it for such a short amount of time," Thundercracker asked.

" Over ninety percent chance they fail, but we can't say that we didn't try. But in that time, they did learn to harness the power," was the reply. He pulled the weather worn carcass from a sand dune. "Transform so I can put this on your back."

Oh, that's why he agreed for Thundercracker to come along, but the blue jet obliged and steadied the new weight on his back. Then, Starscream took off, transforming in mid-jump. Thundercracker followed at a more steady pace, but the pace was too slow for Starscream, for the weighed down jet couldn't see him. The weight was uncomfortable and blinded most of his sight. Which way was Hoover Dam again?

"My, you're slow," a voice snickered behind him. When did Starscream get behind him?

"You try flying with this weight!" he shot back irritably. He almost froze when he remembered whom he was talking about.

"You seem to be doing just fine! You can afford a little more speed," he replied with a playful tone. Irritated at the strange tone, the blue jet shot forward but was still mindful of the weight. The other followed at a good distance. An ocean and a continent passed under, and the Hoover Dam came into view.

Thundercracker landed and shook off the weight to transform. Starscream landed with more ease and grace. Something blue was rummaging through debris caught their optics. "Hey, Soundwave, wachya looking for?" called out Thundercracker.

Soundwave stood up. "Problem: Rumble is missing."

An explosion within the dam caught both mech's attention. Starscream wasn't anywhere in sight. Both ran towards the explosion and found Rumble on the floor near newly melted equipment. His optics flickered as his systems rebooted.

"Found him!" No one caught the humor, and many stared at Skywarp in distaste.

Starscream was livid. "What did I tell you about touching my soldiers!"

The humans cowered as the machine gun aimed at them. One of them stepped forward. "We were just studying his spark and—"

"By inject high voltage into his system?" Soundwave stiffened at the accusation.

"Curiosity, I'm sorry; it won't happen again," the human pleaded.

"Of course it won't. As you say, curiosity killed the cat," Starscream grinned as he let the machine gun loose on the humans near the experiment. Screams and cries echoed through the dam. Thundercracker relished it. The old Starscream was still in there.

The human in charge stormed down the walkway, enraged. His face turned red as he stood there remembering to breathe. Starscream ignored him and picked up Rumble and handed him to Soundwave. "You!" the human finally exclaimed, pointing at Starscream. "What gives you the right to kill my men?"

Starscream shrugged lazily. "I told you not to touch my soldiers. Besides, there are billions of you squishies on this planet. Your men are easily replaceable. However, I only have ten men, so tell me, who do you think is more dispensable to me?" The human's face grew more red, and he hissed something under his breath. The commander ignored him as something caught his interest. "What happened to the fifth Autobot carcass?"

The human grimaced. "It was ripped in half and unfitting for any study. We dumped it somewhere."

The red jet huffed. "Skywarp."

"Yes, sir."

"Take Scorponok's body and hide it from the humans for me." Skywarp left. Starscream grinned at the human as he held his hand to his chest. "That's right. I was going to be nice to you humans, but if this is how you will repay me, then forget it." Starscream left the building, and Thundercracker swore that he heard the jet mutter under his breath, "Stupid humans and their obsession to touch things." Did he really just dangle candy in front of them and snatched it back?


	5. Obsession to touch things

Optimus Prime grunted as a white, blinding light flooded his vision, but he didn't hear himself. He forced his optics to close again. Was he dead? Is this the matrix? For a few seconds after awaking, he couldn't feel anything. It was like floating, but suddenly a heavy weight landed on his chest and knocked the breath out of him. Startled, he moved to shove it off of him but stopped when his arms wouldn't respond. He paused at his body's lack of reaction. Oh, yeah. He's not a robot anymore, but an experiment the humans conducted to keep him and his team alive after that last battle with the new Decepticons. He gradually got used to the weight on his torso to notice the weight was warm… and breathing. Light breaths resounded in the commander's ear, and a bird chirped happily behind one of the windows. Other senses came to him: the soft, thin cloth wisped against his skin as the air conditioner blew its freezing air, and… Optimus blinked; he was wet under the weight.

Optimus strained his eyes to see what was on his chest. Blonde hair. Bee. Awful thoughts from the Simmons episode entered his mind, but he shoved them off and replaced them. How did Bee get over here? Before he could analyze the situation, something metal fell to the floor and rolled, startling Optimus. He strained to see over the mop of hair but to no avail. He tried to grunt, but surprisingly no sound came out. What happened? How long was he asleep? Why couldn't use his vocal chords? Panic swept through him.

Bee shifted slightly. He was awakening. He rolled uncomfortably but paused as he felt his sleeping surface. He immediately shifted his weight off of his commander, to his hands and hips, and stared at Optimus, seeming as though he were laughing, but no sound came out. His eyes flashed joy and sparkled with relief, but Optimus saw the dried tears. Then, Bee collapsed and pulled the tall body into an awkward hug. Optimus tried to return the hug, but his limbs wouldn't respond. Optimus frowned.

A brunette with canine fangs hanging outside his mouth nudged Bee, and the blonde moved to his bed. It took a while before Optimus recognized the new body of Ratchet. Then, Ratchet scooted the beds apart so he could get between them. When did Bee's bed get there? And why and how is Ratchet standing? How long was he out; it became a more serious question. Ratchet handed Bee an open can of some sort of vegetable and Optimus another open can. What is it? Food. Bee took his can and began slurping the weird green stuff from his fingers. Optimus twitched his arm, but it would not move to receive the food. Why is everyone more advanced at moving than he was? Surely, he couldn't have been in shock for that long! Ratchet frowned and plucked a long, thin green vegetable from the can and placed the thing at his commander's mouth. Eating was something he could at least manage because of the nurses before Simmons appeared, but he gagged at how awful the slimy substance was after he accepted it into his mouth.

Ratchet sighed and put the can down. He silently grunted as he lifted his commander into a sitting position. The position stayed. The CMO shoved another slimy stick into his mouth. The former semi forced it down. Thus, this pattern continued until all of the stringy flesh was eaten.

Ironhide. Optimus had forgotten about him. He glanced over to his bed. Ironhide seemed bruised but not broken and was eaten some strange red-violet flesh… and wiping the staining juice on the bed sheets, but it looked like the sheets were already stained to begin with. Ratchet scolded him and smacked him. Ironhide glanced over to his commander and smiled and waved. Even he was able to move on his own.

Optimus took it in stride, though. He smiled, vowed that he wouldn't be out-maneuvered by his own soldiers, and twitched at his fingers. Something small, easy to control, and not a lot of weight.

However, Ratchet had other plans and disturbed his concentration as he plopped on the side of the bed. The wretched can was nowhere to be seen. Optimus stared into his eyes in wonder. The former SAR vehicle seemed to be contemplating something, holding back something. Without warning, the medic flung his arms around him and almost knocked him over. Stunned, former Peterbilt sat there. _I thought we lost you._

Unsure of what to do, he sat there. He blamed the strange behavior on the new human side. _I seriously thought we lost you!_ How long was he out? There's no way of telling. He sighed and leaned his head into Ratchet's shoulder. Humans were obsessed with touch. Bee, being a sports car, knew this more than anyone. Whenever humans admired something, they would touch it, which had irritated Bee. To comfort some one/thing, they touched. To agree or disagree with others, they touched. There are too many "do not touch" signs to count. Humans seemed to be obsessed with feeling others, but Optimus wasn't sure how much more of these new human quirks he can take in his soldiers. If Ironhide tried to hug him…

Said weapon specialist was now sleeping contently, no desire to reach out to the others. It was a strange thought to think of Ironhide hugging anyone. He hated the gentle, appreciative pats William gave him. To think of him pulling someone close was an absurd thought.

Ratchet stiffened and released him. Optimus pondered what had Ratchet moving quickly around the room. Then he heard them: footsteps; Simmons was back. Ratchet rolled Bee to his original spot and shoved the food cart into the bathroom and flopped down on his bed in time for Simmons to enter.

"Hello, did ya miss me?" he asked as he closed the door behind him. He glanced at Optimus. "Well, I guess you had to wake up sometime." The dark glint in his eyes froze the commander with fear. And to express hatred, sadism, and power, humans touch.

—Sam and Mikaela—

Sam sighed and relaxed deeper on the couch as the fan finally clicked on. Stupid heat wave. It appeared out of nowhere. Distantly, Mojo growled softly at something, but he quieted down as a familiar feminine voice called out softly. Too exhausted from the heat, Sam only grunted to notify his existence. Light footsteps traveled through the house and stopped in front of him. The new person smelled of sweat and breathed heavily.

"Saaamm," she whined as she plopped down on the couch by his feet. Sam produced a lazy noise as a reply. A comfortable silence developed as the two panted from the heat. Being a gentleman, Sam clicked on another fan for his guest, Mikaela. "Thanks." Sam settled down in the couch. "Your driveway looks so empty without Bee," she stated. She peered over to where the car should be.

Sam followed her stare and grunted in agreement. "Mister Keller says that he's able to look into it next week, but his schedule is full with more important stuff," Sam breathed out.

She huffed and crossed her arms. "What more important than alien alliances?" she asked, infuriated.

Sam shrugged. "I guess because he couldn't come up with a good excuse to tell people without them thinking he lost his mind. I mean, how sane would it sound if our Secretary of Defense blew some other important _human_ ally with the excuse of 'Save the Aliens?'"

Mikaela groaned and leaned back where the fan blew. Sam picked up an ice cube from the tray on the table. The ice cubes had their own fan to keep them solid longer. He dropped the cube in his shirt and vocalized strange noises as it slid fire-like sensations across his body. "What are you doing?" his girlfriend asked.

"It feels so good!" he replied, slightly louder than he thought. He grinned at her.

Mikaela rubbed her face and muttered under her breath. "So how many Decepticons do you think there are now?" she asked, changing the subject. The fan cooling her down brought her a better mood; otherwise, she would have snapped out Sam.

"Don't know. I know at least Barricade and a few jets," he replied thoughtfully, looking at the ceiling.

"Barricade? How do you know? Have you seen him?" she asked concerned, looking at her boyfriend.

Sam shook his head and glanced at her before he continued to stare down the ceiling. "No, that Melinda chick at the hospital told me he ran her over." Two seconds went by, and Sam realized his mistake. He shot up. "I am not cheating on you. I've only met her twice."

Mikaela looked annoyed and shot him a glare. "Oh? Why haven't you mentioned her before, then?"

Sam shifted into a better position. "Because she wasn't important to the conversation!" he cried to save himself, using his arms to talk. "If it bothers you that bad, we'll go visit her in hospital tomorrow or something. I've got nothing to hide." He held up his hands in surrender.

Mikaela sighed and closed her eyes in thought. "What's wrong with today? The hospital has better air condition." She withdrew herself from the couch. Sam quickly followed.

"Today's fine, too," he started. He briskly walked to the stairs and yelled up them, "Bye, we're leaving to visit our friends in the hospital!"

"Just be safe!" came the reply. Sam smiled and left.

Mikaela followed through the door. "So do they know about the Autobots?" She withdrew the keys to the family car. "I'm driving."

"Had to tell them. I didn't know how to explain a concept car in their driveway," he replied as he got into the car.

—New Scene—

Sam sat down in one of the chairs in the hospital room and sighed happily as the air conditioning unit kicked in. Mikaela sat down in another, dazed, most likely drugged. Melinda ignored her new visitors, or so it looked, and continued to sketch in her sketchbook. She still had bandages on her cheeks and her arm, and because of her position sitting up and the robe didn't fit correctly, Sam could see bandages that started below her collarbone and stretched down.

"Wow, you're big-breasted," Mikaela blurted out. She shot a glare at Sam, who held his hand up in surrender. He really wasn't paying attention to that detail, since she was overweight and old enough to be his mother. Blinking, Melinda put her sketchbook down and hugged a pillow, hiding behind it.

"You try nursing five children, and see how big yours get," she muttered shyly. "Am I a side show to bring friends to see?" she asked Sam. She looked hurt and still hid behind the pillow.

"Ah, Melinda, this is my girlfriend, Mikaela. Mikaela, this is the chick who Barricade ran over," he introduced them, pointing with an open hand at each one as he spoke her name. Melinda waved at her.

"Hi," Mikaela said. Melinda slightly smiled at her and stared her down with wide eyes. Mikaela shifted uncomfortably.

Sam cleared his throat. "Uh, I told Mikaela about you, and she thought I was cheating on her with you." He smiled to relax the atmosphere a little. Mikaela shot him a dirty look.

Melinda replied without taking her eyes off Mikaela. "I'm not a pedophile. Does she usually insult people like this?" She snorted and rolled her head on the pillow, breaking eye contact with Mikaela. His girlfriend huffed indignantly.

"Uh, I think it's just the heat," he replied. The young woman smacked him for the remark. "Ow. Yes, the heat," he agreed with himself.

"Are you going to try to see your friends, afterward?" Melinda asked softly, looking at the door.

"How much did you tell her about them?" Mikaela hissed and leaned over towards him.

He leaned forward too and whispered, "Just Barricade's name and that I have friends here in the hospital. I know the Autobots have a right to privacy, but she had a right to know who attacked her."

Mikaela leaned back and groaned. Sam sighed and shifted more comfortably in his seat. Melinda stared out the window and watched two songbirds singing and dancing in flight. They sang an urgent song. She reached out to them but let her hand fall by her side. "You never answered my question," she pointed out softly.

"We can't because of, uh, security reasons," he replied. He watched the birds and wondered why they were interesting. Slowly, the birds flew off.

"I have to get out of here," Melinda said suddenly. "I've been in here too long."

The statements took the couple by surprise. "You can't just leave," the girlfriend started, "and they won't just let you out." She cast a worried glance to her boyfriend, and he returned it.

"When I can walk to the check out desk, I'm checking out," she stated as if she were talking about the weather, "I'll just continue to heal at home."

Just as the two were about to walk out slowly, the nurse from earlier, Sakura, walked in with a handful of pills and a cup of water. "Melinda, shut up or I'll send you to the insanity corridor." She handed the pills and cup to Melinda and then turned to them and smiled. "You'll have to excuse her. She gets a little stir crazy if she's locked in a room for too long." They returned the smile awkwardly.

"That and I hate hospitals," Melinda added before she swallowed all her pills. "You don't have an insanity corridor."

Sakura frowned slightly but returned the smile to her face. "I'm sorry, but visiting hours are coming to an end, so please finish up your business, and leave." Sam glanced at his watch to confirm visiting hours were nowhere near over, but he didn't argue with the nurse, who now had a dark glint in her eyes.

"Right," he nodded and lifted Mikaela from her chair.

"We were just about to leave anyway," Mikaela added, and the two quickly left after waving and saying goodbye to Melinda.

"No! Don't leave me with the insane nurse," Melinda called out after them.

"Shut up!" Sakura exclaimed.


	6. Who is Melinda Cold?

Agent Simmons gazed up at the four corpses of the Autobots hanging above him. He grinned at his feat. They were his, now, all his. After all the strategic planning, the aliens were now his. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed someone walking to him.

"Report," he commanded.

The newcomer stopped and glanced down at the papers in his hands. "The woman with the spark residue is planning to check herself out of the hospital. Recent tests show the residue has disappeared." He paused. "What are your orders, sir?"

He watched the man for any signs of misinformation. Satisfied, he nodded and announced, "Let her go, but keep an eye on her."

The man nodded back and left. Simmons sighed. Another dead end.

—New Scene—

Ratchet sat and watched in amusement as his leader rolled off his bed and fell to the floor with a thud. He really was trying to catch up with the others' advancement of moving, but instead of testing the water, he dove off the diving board and realized he couldn't swim. However, the medic, tired of picking up his heavy leader over and over, decided watch and see if he would learn to swim on his own like Ironhide did, before coming to his rescue. Optimus rubbed his newly bruised arm that he had landed on and grimaced. Though, Ratchet had to admit that he was advancing far more quickly than the others.

He turned his attention to the food cart. Yesterday, something had caught his attention before Optimus woke up, but now, he couldn't remember why the cart interested him. He ran his fingers along the plastic, smooth seams. He frowned as a seam sunk deeper than the others. After feeling it for a while longer, he tugged at the plastic; it budged. Frightened, he let go. Did he break it? He inspected the cart carefully. No, the cart was its wobbly self. A thought struck him that maybe the plastic part came out like a secret compartment. Carefully, he slid the compartment out and scrunched his face in confusion at the contents: folded cloth. He pulled a thick, blue material out. The material unfolded and made its true shape known as a pair of jeans. He dug out the rest of the clothes. Eight t-shirts, boxers, socks, and pairs of shoes (four sandals and four tennis shoes), and four jackets, shorts, and jeans, and a terry cloth bag. After the inspection, he quickly folded the clothes back up and placed them in the hidden shelf. He closed the compartment back up. Clothes would help in escaping from a hospital, as the robes would give them away, but there wasn't a definite escape plan yet, and Simmons might take them.

A hand landed on his lap and ripped him of his thoughts. _I did it!_ He peered down and followed the arm to the grinning face of his commander. Optimus, drenched with sweat, shook with exhaustion, but Ratchet returned the grin. He beat Ironhide. Ironhide crawled at day three, and here Optimus was crawling at day two, though not as effective. Ironhide made it across the room, but Optimus barely made it halfway.

Optimus yawned in pure exhaustion and withdrew his hand to lay his head on it. His body continued to shiver as he slowly fell into recharge. Ratchet stood and pulled a sheet from his bed and covered the shivering body with it. Staring at the sheet, an idea formed. The distance from the windows to ground level had to be approximately thirteen feet. With each bed sheet about six or seven feet long, they had plenty for a rope. Easy on the surface, but how would Bumblebee with two broken legs get down, or the slightly uncoordinated Optimus, climb down a rope? Ironhide couldn't move without reopening his wounds, and Simmons amused himself with reopening the wounds, so they wouldn't heal anytime soon. An idea to toy with when the majority can move properly.

What if Simmons already knew about the food cart? The thought disturbed him. If Simmons knew of it, then he could take it away, but it also explained why he hadn't fed them anything. It has been nearly a week since Simmons took control, and not once had he left food. Ratchet didn't know how long humans could go without food, but a week had to be pushing the limit. Something had to be done soon because the current food supply was dwindling.

Footsteps strolled happily down the hallway. Simmons. He hummed as he ambled down the hall. Ratchet nudged Optimus, waking him up. Quickly he shoved the food cart into the bathroom and closed the door. He turned around to return to his bed but stopped when he saw Optimus still lying on the floor. The tall guy couldn't move. Ratchet sighed in frustration as he yanked the covers from him and held out a hand to pull him up. Optimus grabbed the hand as one of the doors flew open.

All three froze and looked at each other. Simmons spun a stick in his hand. The end was glowing a deep orange and trailed a light smoke. He stopped and spoke, "So, when did you start walking? Never mind, you can't talk. Guess what? Today, I make you permanently mine!"

—New Scene—

"This Melinda person doesn't seem like she's all there in the head," Mikaela started her train of thought. She snuggled closer to Sam's chest and turned her attention at the TV again. They were watching some cheesy comedy that was completely predictable.

"Well, she did just survive a car crash," Sam replied after a little while.

William Lennox chose this moment to remind them they weren't alone. "What exactly did you tell her? What did she tell you about her involvement with Barricade?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't think she's aware of the Transformers' presence on this planet. She hates hospitals, and Sakura said something about happy pills; all I know is that there's something wrong with her mentally. All I told her was that Barricade threatened my life because he hated my car. And I mentioned that Barricade might have something to do with my friends' crash. She has a sick sense of humor, and she can read facial expressions better than anyone I met."

"Nothing about why the Decepticons are targeting her, or if this was one occurrence?"

"I'm pretty sure that it was one occurrence."

William thought for a while. "Try to get as much information out of her as you can tomorrow."

—Decepticon Love—

Barricade sat outside the hospital as ordered. The woman he was ordered to injure near-fatally rested inside. Sector 7 was very interested in this woman. The web search on her proved insufficient. Last year, she emigrated from Japan with a Sakura Haruno and her cousin Yusuke and his wife. She changed her name to Melinda Cold shortly after gaining partial citizenship to America. What her name was beforehand, Barricade couldn't filter out. It was as if she didn't exist. She promptly bought a three-bedroom house in a nearby suburb and bought most of the furniture. Sakura moved in with her, but her cousin rented an apartment closer to the center of Tranquility. She wrote an interesting, gore-filled novel and a boring sequel that was translated into English. Even there he couldn't find her real name. According to her files, she couldn't hold a job if her life depended on in. Recently, though she bought a Pontiac and paid in full for it.

For Sakura, information was easily obtained. She worked at the very hospital he parked outside, since the move. She has yet to lose a patient. She was an average student in high school, but excelled in medical school and became one of the best in Japan. Apparently, she didn't like the health care system, so she traveled here with Cold. She pays the bills in Cold's house.

As for Yusuke, he didn't even graduate middle school. He had a long list of vandalism charges and was arrested many times for fights and public drunkenness. Interestingly, he had an obituary in a local newspaper the year before he officially dropped out. It wasn't flattering. Eight years later, he married his middle school sweetheart, and she became the breadwinner, while Yusuke took odd-end jobs.

Nothing from any of their files stated anything that would cause interest for Sector 7. Perhaps there was something in Melinda's previous life that interested them.


	7. Pizza Delivery

Sam and Mikaela waited patiently for the nurse behind the desk checked them in as visitors. The nurse frowned. "I'm sorry, but Melinda checked out this morning."

The couple looked at each other in confusion. She didn't seem that well yesterday. Mikaela asked, "Do you know where we might find her?"

"I'm sorry, but we are not allowed to give out a patient's personal information," she replied not looking up from her screen. A scream caught their attention. An angry Sakura stormed to their direction. They shuffled out her way as she slammed her fists on the counter. The other nurse answered before she asked the question, "Yes, Melinda Cold checked out this morning at seven: thirty-three."

Sakura trailed steaming in anger. "When I get home, you're dead Melinda!"

—Autobots—

Ironhide stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Multiple cuts glimmered on his face. He sighed as he lifted his sleeve to view the damage from yesterday. His muscular, thick frame blocked his view of the brand located there. Using the mirror, he located and poked the burn mark on his left upper arm, stroked the rough skin. 'Ugly,' he thought to himself. The good thing: the dark, thick-printed, encircled "S7" somewhat blended with his darkly tanned skin. The others weren't so lucky with their pale complexions, though Optimus was only slightly lighter than Ironhide. He sighed and brushed back his coarse, black hair with his fingers.

They need to escape this place before something worse happens. Humans were known for surprises, so even if Ironhide couldn't think of anything worse, Simmons might be planning it. At least Optimus had learned to…waddle for a lack of a better term. Bumblebee, someone can carry. Ratchet and Ironhide could walk well, so one of them could carry him, and the other would keep Optimus steady. Just, how do they escape? Jumping out of the windows seemed suicidal, and the doors were still firmly locked and probably heavily guarded. He sighed in frustration and let his head fall onto the mirror. Pain.

It felt strange to feel pain. The external sensors on his metal body were dampened so he could be durable to pain and could withstand almost anything that would make any normal mech short-circuit. But, now, he's stuck in a body unfit for pain. He could feel pain more intensely, and he hated it. Ironhide withdrew himself from the hard surface. Though, he must say that he enjoyed feeling some sensations that he couldn't with his dampened sensors. He could sense temperature more accurately, and he actually felt his surroundings, like the soft cotton bed sheets, the ice-cold floor, the texture of the canned food and even the can itself, the sensations of his face when he formed an emotion, the pulling and relaxing of his new muscles, his coarse hair, and his rough skin. This would be something he would miss when he returned to his original body.

A soft scratching noise caught his attention and pulled him from his thoughts. The others were still asleep, so they couldn't be making the noise, but soon, the noise stopped. Suddenly, something heavy slammed into something solid. The scratching noise continued but further away. Ironhide ran out of the bathroom and watched the second door slam open, then the third, and the fourth. No footsteps, no shadow to indicate a person, nothing to perceive out of the normal, but all four doors were open. Ironhide glanced over to his comrades still in their beds and spooked as much as he. Except, Ratchet. He was furious at Ironhide for getting out of bed. Ironhide grinned, and the medic huffed in annoyance.

A foreign light floated from where the emergency exit door stood, and the outside suffocating heat swept in. Cautiously, Ironhide made his way to the fourth door and stopped as a shifting shadow flew quickly through the hall and around the corner. No footsteps, at least none that made a sound. The weapon specialist asked the others with his eyes if they saw it too. Their expressions stated yes. Ratchet rolled out of bed and dug out the food cart. Not hungry, Ironhide watched the hall for the shadow, but it had disappeared. Carefully, he looked out the exit door as the stench of fresh blood hit his nostrils. A guard, back to the Autobot, stood in uniform outside as if nothing happened. But on closer inspection, the guard swayed, as if he floated off the ground. Glancing at the back of the guard, he noticed fresh blood seeping out his shoulders. As he drew closer, he noticed the sun reflecting off clear string piercing through the guard's shoulders and wrapping around his head to hold it up. The ends of the string reached up.

Before he could investigate further, someone tapped on his shoulder, something he wouldn't have felt with his old body. He turned to face Ratchet holding and wearing some of the clothes the medic found yesterday. The former Hummer's face paled as he witnessed the aftermath of the ghost's sadism. He looked to Ironhide for an explanation. He shrugged, wincing as the movement irritated some wounds. The medic immediately began to fuss over them, but Ironhide grabbed the clothes and returned to the room to change.

For some reason, a sadistic being has taken pity on them. Why? When will it turn its head towards them to release its sadism?

Changing clothes was difficult and awkward, as they were unfamiliar with the action, but they at least knew where each article went. Ironhide noticed the different textures of the jeans and the shirt. Ratchet had to help Bee. Finally, when all of them were dressed, Ratchet shoved the rest of the clothes and some of the food cans into the terry bag, and Ironhide plucked Bee from his bed and almost staggered under the new weight as a few cuts ripped open. The blonde waved his arms frantically, as Ironhide forgot warn him beforehand, but he soon calmed down and grabbed on for dear life. He held the smaller form closer and felt Bee's heart race.

Ironhide looked to the other two and saw they were ready to leave. Optimus walked unsteadily for the first few steps, and Ratchet followed him, watching for any falls. Ironhide took the lead and led them to the exit door. He paused, trying not to disturb the hanging body. Finally, he maneuvered around it and continued down the rusty emergency exit stairs. The pathetic, old paint job peeled under their hands when they tried to steady themselves and left residue. Finally, they carefully and shakily staggered down the ladder part and to the connecting dirty alleyway.

They stood scanning the alleyway for anything to help them. They really needed a place to hide and a place to stay, Ironhide mused. Humans didn't fare well against the weather and elements for too long. But they couldn't ask any of the humans that knew of them because that will be the first place Simmons would look, and they couldn't ask anyone for advice. Even in the shade of the two buildings, the heat pounded down on them as they tried to come up with a plan that could be explained without words, and the smell of fresh sweat rained down. Ironhide couldn't bear the weight anymore and placed Bee on the ground by his feet, panting. Slowly, the sun swept across the sky. Even after many pacing sessions, no one had a plan.

A hushed conversation caught their attention, and they scooted closer into the shadows and dragged Bee with them. The conversation drew closer with uneven footsteps. They now could make out a feminine voice and a masculine voice. The pair turned around the corner into the alley. The woman leaned heavily against the male as she limped with her left leg. Her mid-back length, black hair shadowed her face. She wore a pink hoodie with paled jeans and big boots. She had to be about five feet. He had short, gelled-back hair, black with a tint of brown. A few strands of hair dangled over his forehead. His bright, large brown eyes scanned the place with a bored look. He wore jeans with a white t-shirt and sneakers. He stood a head taller than she. The man also had a wedding ring on his finger, but the woman did not. Could they trust them?

"Why are we here, again?" the man asked with boredom coating his words.

The woman scanned the alley also, but with more interest. With her face now uncovered, two white gauze strips taped to her cheeks made themselves known. Her brilliant, blue eyes caught with Ironhide's. Stiffly, she shoved her friend away and straightened her leg; she turned her head to hide the pride and pain. "I wanted to retrieve my kunai."

Her friend stared at her weirdly and searched for whatever caught her attention. "Today? Why not later when you can walk?" Then, he noticed the four people in the shadows. Vainly, the four dove deeper into the shadows. What if they were working for Sector 7? They didn't want to go back! Not after they just escaped!

She glared at him and pulled out a small knife looking thing from behind her. "I can walk just fine!" She threw the knife up to where the security guard hung. It sliced through a few strands of string, clattered against the brick, and fell with the body and two more knives, but the knives fell through the cracks of the platform to the ground.

"You can walk, but not 'fine'." He paused and stared at what she aimed at. She ignored his wide-eyed, silent question and stooped stiffly to pick up the fallen knives and shoved them into what looked like a pouch hooked to the right back belt loop of her jeans. "Is that a body?"

She stiffened more as she lifted herself off the ground. "Yes." This was the sadistic being; Ironhide could feel it. Her attention drew back to the other three. With an unknown emotion, she whipped her eyes all over them, then to the security guard.

Her friend wrapped his arms around her and groaned, "Melinda! Why? You're supposed to be getting better! Not tying people up like human puppets!" He paused, watching the guard and emitted a surprised noise. "He's still alive!"

"Yay him," she replied sarcastically. She brushed the embrace off and walked towards them, but the limp was still visible as she tried calmly to hide it. "What are you people still doing here? Do you want to go back?" she asked coldly and crossed her arms. She stopped two yards from them.

Ironhide shook his head and stepped in front of Bee, sitting in front of him, protectively. They wouldn't go back there, especially Bee, if he could help it. Her breath hitched and stepped back, slightly shifting into a defensive position. "I asked you a question," she stated, "Why are you still here?"

Ratchet sighed and stood in the sunlight, where the scar on his neck would be visible. Melinda studied the scar for a moment. She studied all of them, taking in the damage conflicted. Her eyes lingered on Bee. "You don't have anywhere to go," she asked and stated. When Ironhide shook his head, she sighed.

She rubbed her face and looked at her friend, questioning. He shrugged his shoulders. She whispered, "What do I do?" She studied them again. Her eyes locked with Optimus's kind eyes and softened. His eyes seemed to mesmerize her. It was almost comical to see her bend her neck like that to even lock eyes with him. He was seven feet tall.

"If you help every sap that you meet, you'll be broke," her friend complained as if he could read her thoughts.

"Do you have a spare bedroom?" she asked him. She looked to his face. He rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"I just explained to you that," he started before she interrupted him.

"It's a simple question, Yusuke," she interrupted with a professional air. "Surely you have enough brain cells to answer a simple question."

Not at all affected from the insult, he shrugged. "No."

"Thank you." She sighed and stared at the four again. Suddenly, Yusuke growling lifted Melinda from the ground and turned to leave. She shrieked. "What are you doing? Put me down!"

But he continued anyway. "I'm preventing you from making a mistake."

"It's a mistake to help people? Look around you! People need to make that mistake more often!"

He stopped and sighed and placed her down. "I honestly don't think you should trust them." He glanced at their direction. "Something feels… off about them," he explained

"Neither do I. I feel it too," she replied and waved her arms around, "but they just escaped from a mad man and need a place to hide." She returned to her spot two yards away from them.

"So this is personal," he asked as he followed her back.

She ignored the comment and stared at them. Her lips quivered a little, but she took a deep breath. "I have a spare bedroom and like five couches. It's not much, but," she trailed off.

Yusuke butted in, pointing at the security guard for emphasis. Melinda sighed.

The Autobots looked at each other. They didn't have anywhere else to go, and staying here wasn't an option. But, if she's mad, then they might be heading to a worse situation. As if sensing their dilemma, Melinda added, "You can leave whenever you'd like. Just stay until you can find a better place." With reluctance, they agreed, shaking their heads. She nodded. "Follow me."

Before they left, Optimus tried to thank her with a hug, but she roughly shoved him away and said, "Rule one," then hissed with venom, "Don't touch me!"

-

Melinda had given the house keys to Yusuke, who led them out the city using the barely used streets, and Melinda had stopped to buy food, hygiene items, and more clothing for her new guests. She only guessed at the sizes. At one point, Ironhide couldn't hold Bee anymore, so he and Ratchet switched jobs. Many people stared at Bee and made him uncomfortable.

Finally, they stood outside a white, modest two-story home in a quiet, little neighborhood. A brown wooden fence blocked the view of the backyard, but the roof of a greenhouse poked out in the back, and a huge oak tree towered over the house. The garage door looked rustic and old as if never used. The grass was kept short, and the driveway and small path to the porch were swept clean of dirt. The front porch was lined with a flowerbed. Yusuke led them inside after he slipped the key into the door. The door opened with a slight push, and they walked in.

They walked into a spacious and large room, but it included the kitchen, dining, and living room. On the far left, a small kitchen sat with tiled counters. And on the far right, an adequate living room with three couches angled at a small entertainment center on the front wall and a coffee table in the middle. The two rooms were separated by a dining room table and matching chairs. In the middle of the opposite wall was a doorway leading to a hall.

Melinda barged in with many bags. She sighed and placed the bags onto the island counter.

Yusuke and Melinda started unloading the shopping bags. The warriors didn't know what to do. Melinda glanced at the unsure people and explained the layout. "This is the main room. Just relax on the couches if you want," she gestured at said furniture. She paused to watch them sit down. Ratchet placed Bee in the middle of the couch facing the kitchen and sat next to him. Ironhide and Optimus sat on the middle couch. "That door leads to the garage, but we don't use the garage, so there's no telling what you'll find down there. Stay out," she gestured at the door beside the refrigerator, "that doorway lead to the hall. The door in front is a bathroom, and to the left are the washroom and the stairs to the second floor, and to the right is a closet that's locked for a reason. Upstairs, on the right are a bathroom, the study/game room, the spare bedroom, and another locked closet, and on the left are my bedroom and bathroom and Sakura's bedroom and bathroom." She pointed at the rooms through the walls and ceilings. "The rules are one: don't touch me; two: you should probably leave Sakura alone, thee: pick up any mess you make."

"Which reminds me," Yusuke paused putting various items up, "does Sakura know about this yet?"

Melinda stiffened and mock-pouted. "Don't remind me." She looked around the kitchen for something. "Good, I've hidden the knives. I feel better now." _'Hidden the knives?' What did we get ourselves into?' _The four exchanged glances. They all had to be mad to be here. She joined him on putting stuff up. "I'm putting your clothes and other stuff in the upper bathroom and the spare bedroom." She said to the men on the couches as she scooped up the bags containing the items. They nodded, seeing as they couldn't say anything or disagree. She returned the nod.

"Your leg's bleeding," Yusuke commented.

She paused and placed the bags back down to look at her leg. A red stain seeped slowly, becoming larger, on the outer thigh of her left leg. "So it is," she muttered, dazed.

Yusuke grabbed the bags. "You need to take it easy. I'll take these up." He left.

Melinda sat down at the dining table, still dazed. By now, the two had cleared the counter of bags and had put all the food up. She stared at the front door, as if waiting for death to show any minute. Perhaps this Sakura was death. She glanced at the clock hanging near the stove and sighed. She crossed her arms and laid them on the table and rested her head, head turned to the living room, to them. "I guess you can't tell me your names," she muttered to herself, "but I can't just call ya 'Hey You.'" She stared at them in thought. Her stare, whatever emotion that existed then, seemed to bear down into their souls. It unnerved them, and they fidgeted under it. She sighed and released an arm from under her head. "I'm calling you," she pointed at Bee and paused, "Sunshine. And you," she paused and pointed at Ironhide, "uh, Trigger-Happy." She shrugged as if the name came to her randomly. She pointed at Ratchet, "You are now Fangs because I don't like you and it looks like you have fangs." Ratchet frowned immediately felt his mouth, feeling for the "fangs." There were none, but his canine teeth were still considerably long. Melinda smiled. "And, uh, you," she pointed at Optimus, "you… I don't know, uh, NBA." She shrugged and drew her arm back under her head. She closed her eyes. "I want chocolate," she stated. Yusuke, who had just walked back in, paused.

Grumbling under his breath, he searched one of the cabinets for the desired substance. He pulled out an open package and threw it at her. She grabbed it in mid-air and tugged a segment off the chocolate bar. "What is this stuff?" he muttered to himself as he examined another package. As he figured it out, he shot Melinda a surprised look. "Is this…?" he asked, trailing off.

"Yes," Melinda replied. She scratched the surface of the segment, revealing a strange substance within the chocolate.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he put away the package. She shrugged and scraped a little of the substance on her nail.

"Sunshine, say 'Aww!'" Confused, Bee opened his mouth slightly.

"Sunshine? Wait! You can't feed him that! It might kill him!" Yusuke exclaimed a little too late as Melinda flicked it accurately into Bee's mouth. Bee immediately clamped his mouth shut, but the substance had already reached its destination. Bee gagged as a burning sensation swarmed his mouth. Ratchet stood in protest and tried to help Bee.

"Swallow," Melinda commanded, "and I know it won't kill him." She plopped the rest into her mouth. She grimaced but melted the chocolate in her mouth and swallowed. She placed her head down with a sigh.

Bee swallowed, but the burning sensation traveled down his throat and suffocated him. His vision blurred without oxygen. He struggled for breath as it hit his stomach. There, the burning ebbed away. He panted for breath and tried to orient himself. Somewhere during the experience, he had fallen to the floor. Ironhide, already picking him off the ground, angrily glared at Melinda.

"See? He's not dead. He's just going to be in discomfort for a while," she explained. "In about forty-five minutes, you will experience some slight discomfort for about an hour or two, depending on how long it takes to reconstruct your bones." She paused. "Yusuke, Sakura will be coming home shortly," she stated with a hidden question.

He grinned and searched the cabinets for something. "Then I'm popping popcorn." Melinda smiled, reassured.

—New Scene—

True to her words, Bee writhed in pain after forty-five minutes had past. He gasped and clutched his legs, hoping that by grabbing the pain, he could control it. He had fallen off the couch again. If he could scream, he would have, but since he had no voice, only his face depicted the silent scream. The room was non-existent to him. Suddenly, hands from the darkness shot out to grab him, and he thrashed against them.

"You're only making it worse for him," Melinda said, sitting across from them, "just let go of him, and don't touch him. You're doing more damage than good." The three in dismay released their hold of Bee. It frustrated them to watch a comrade in pain. "He'll be on his feet in no time," she assured. Not feeling the assurance, they quietly sat back down. Bee calmed down slightly, but his eyes still held a glazed look.

"Sakura should be coming home any minute," Melinda announced. Long ago, she had changed into a different pair of jeans and tore off the yellowing bandages on her face. Under the bandages, two hideous, discolored, crooked triangular shaped scars surfaced for breath. They confused them, as the scars were still supposed to be fresh scabs. Her limp had diminished considerably.

Yusuke sat up from his position on the couch and bounced into the kitchen. "Better start on the popcorn," he sang as he placed flat bags into the microwave.

"Why two bags?" Melinda asked. "How'd you fit two bags in there?"

Yusuke paused his actions. "Well, you are obviously aren't going to eat any because you're part of the entertainment. I'm family, so I get a whole bag to myself, and they," he pointed to the Autobots, "get to split a bag." He paused and grinned. "I'm talented."

Melinda frowned but said nothing and continued to watch the door. When the popcorn finished, Yusuke tossed them a bag and placed another one into the microwave. "Careful. It's hot!" Ironhide stared at the bag in his hands. He watched how Yusuke ripped the bag open and mimicked him. The bag ripped cleanly and nothing went flying. Yusuke popped a few kernels into his mouth, and Ironhide tentatively picked one. Ratchet popped one in his mouth. He chewed, taking in the new flavor, and he liked it. Optimus grabbed a handful and popped one in his mouth.

"Hey, don't make a mess!" Melinda cried as she sat up. She dug into a cabinet and withdrew some small bowls. Quickly, she placed the bowls on the coffee table. Then, she scooped down and picked up a stray kernel that fell, and she ate it. Optimus picked up another kernel that he dropped. Then, a second popcorn bag landed on the table, and Yusuke smiled victoriously.

"It's almost dinner time, and I haven't cooked anything," Melinda stated to herself. Sighing, she pushed herself off the ground. Quickly, Ironhide opened the new bag and shared its contents. Melinda walked to the phone hanging in the kitchen part by the doorway and dialed a number. "Hi, yes, I would like to order," she paused and counted the occupants of the room, "two large pepperoni pizzas, and two large cheese pizzas." She gave them the address, "Thank you!" and hung up. Pizza? The Autobots looked at each other. Bee seemed to be the only one who knew what the substance was, and he seemed excited.

"Why four pizzas? Isn't that overkill?" asked Yusuke.

Melinda resumed her place on the dining table. "Yeah, probably, but I don't know how much they," she gestured at the Autobots, "eat. Besides, leftovers can be used as lunch tomorrow."

A soft, rustling noise from the door caught everyone's attention. "It's unlocked," Melinda called out. The door immediately slammed open to reveal a ticked off, pink-haired, dull green-eyed woman in a nurse outfit. Her face seemed familiar from somewhere, but Ironhide couldn't place it. Bumblebee immediately recognized her as the nurse that helped them in the hospital.

She breathed heavily and slammed the door behind her as she stormed in. "What are you doing home so soon?" she seethed. Before Melinda could respond, the newcomer, obviously Sakura, spotted Yusuke munching happily on his popcorn in mock interest. "Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?" she screamed. Yusuke paused in his eating. With newfound speed, Optimus and Ironhide hid behind the sofa, and Bee shrunk behind the coffee table, but Ratchet sat still, dazed. Somehow, in her rage, Sakura didn't notice the shifting. Are all medics like this? They wondered, staring at Ratchet.

"Don't yell at my cousin! Your house? Your house! Whose name is on all the paperwork?" Melinda smugly corrected her.

Ratchet felt the stares and glared; he chucked an empty bowl at them. The bowl clattered across the table and caught Sakura's attention. Everyone froze as she went deathly silent. In mock dramatization, Yusuke slowly placed popcorn in his mouth and crunched slowly. The noise seemed to pull Sakura out of her shock, and she exploded. "Why are they here?" she screamed at Melinda and pointed at the hiding men.

Melinda shrugged nonchalantly, but a satisfying grin stretched across her face. "They followed me home. Well, they followed Yusuke home, but," she started.

Sakura sneered and stomped through the room but stopped to slug Melinda in the face. Melinda yelped as she tumbled out of her chair. No one moved for a full minute after Sakura left, for too stunned were they. Finally, somehow, Yusuke ripped himself out of it and heaved Melinda off the floor. She groaned as she held her cheek and allowed herself to be lifted up. As she withdrew her hand, she became mesmerized by the fresh blood coating her hand. The blood seemed to captivate her.

"Melinda," Yusuke started worry coating his words, "when was the last time you had any med?" He grabbed a dishtowel and patted her face.

"Sometime yesterday," she muttered. She groaned and leaned heavily on him. "I don't want to take any medication," she whined, "I'm perfectly fine without it."

She shifted against his frame so that he had to wrap his arm around her to keep the dishtowel in place. "Well, your definition of fine is wrong, and it doesn't matter if you don't want to take your medication. You havta take it anyways." She let out a disappointed noise.

"Fine," she gave in and popped a pill from a prescription bottle from the counter.

—New Scene—

Sam sighed into the phone as he waited for the other to pick up. Mikaela sighed as well, though not from boredom. Someone kidnapped their friends. Who would do something like this? How many alien fanatic groups must the poor Autobots suffer through until they're left alone? Would they ever receive the peace they deserved?

Sam pumped his fist as someone picked up. "Uh, hello? Captain Lennox? Uh, this is Sam Witwicky, the kid with the Camaro. Yeah, uh, did Mr. Keller tell you the news yet? Oh, uh, someone kidnapped the Autobots, but I'm sure he's got people searching for them and all that… Uh, you're welcome. Bye." He smashed the end button and placed the phone down.

Mikaela watched a pizza delivery car pass. "I'm starting to get hungry. Let's get something to eat."

—New Scene—

Twitching his toes slightly for amusement, Bee idly watched Melinda retrieve the food from the geeky teenager who rambled on about a book that changed his life and how he's a huge fan, before Melinda slammed the door in his face. The pain in his thighs disappeared minutes ago, and he could feel his legs. He would have to come up with a way to thank her for giving him back his legs. Saying thank you was definitely out of the question, and judging by her reactions to them, a physical thank you crossed out also. This would take creative thinking.

All thoughts left his mind as a wonderful aroma hit his nostrils, and he rolled his eyes up at the pure beauty from it. His stomach growled fiercely, demanding that whatever's causing that smell to be devoured. Then, Bee suddenly realized that none of them had any food today, and the starvation kicked in. Melinda placed the wonderful smelling food on the island counter. Immediately, Bee stood to retrieve the pizza… but immediately crashed down due to imbalance. Blinking, Melinda stooped down to his level and grinned. "Forgot how to walk, huh?" Bee looked away ashamed. He never had the chance to learn to walk like the others, not with broken legs. Now he had legs, he still had to rely on the others for movement. The grin on Melinda's face fell as she stood. "Hey Sakura! Food's ready!"

Swiftly, Ironhide lifted Bee off the ground and placed him in one of the dining table's chairs. The others also found a place at the table. Tentatively, Sakura appeared and swiped two slices before returning to her solitude, but not before muttering insults under her breath about hoodlums in her house. The rest devoured the pizza; the warmth sliding down their throats made it better than any of the canned plants. The pizza had so many textures and tastes. There was plenty, and no need to ration.

Melinda counted the remaining slices after everyone had their fill. "We have half a pizza left," she commented. She yawned irritably.

Yusuke stood and stretched. "I need to get home," he announced and embraced Melinda good-bye, "Take care!" He waved to the others and left. Bee noticed Melinda didn't fight the embrace like she had when Optimus tried; in fact, it looked like she enjoyed it. Why couldn't Optimus touch her, but Yusuke could?

Looking somewhat downhearted, Melinda stood and yawned again. "Fight amongst yourselves for the couches. There's also one bed. In my opinion, the couches upstairs are more comfortable." Then, she limped off.

As the food settled in his full stomach, sleep called his name. He yawned pitifully and pointed to the couches in the room. Ironhide understood and placed him on one of the couches, where Bee immediately fell asleep.


	8. Laced Chocolate

**I don't own any of the music that Melinda plays in the background.**

John Keller sifted through the papers on his desk, deciding which one he wanted to deal with first. A knock stopped him. "Come in."

Maggie Madsen stepped in downhearted. "Sir," she started, "Sector 7 pleads that the Autobots have been kidnapped. While there is no evidence against this, they could have hidden them somewhere else, or the Autobots might have escaped, but we really don't know."

John paused and let the information sink in. The Autobots fell out of their grasp again. They were so close to saving them. "Well then find out!" he snapped more irritably than he intended. He muttered an apology as Maggie left and sighed.

—Autobots—

Bee awoke to the smell of fat frying and bread baking. The wonderful aroma starved him. As he woke further, he could hear soft rock playing in the background and someone humming to it off tune while clattering in the kitchen. It took him to realize that he wasn't in the hospital room. He was somewhere safe. He snuggled deeper into the soft couch with a content sigh. The song ended, and "The Twist" started to play. The smell of fresh food was intoxicating.

"You awake, yet?" a cheerful voice called out above the music. He peeked one eye opened and jumped as Melinda's face appeared a foot away from him. The clattering had stopped in the kitchen. She smiled broadly. "Go take a shower. You stink."

Optimus woke with a strange feeling that he was where he didn't belong. This wasn't the hospital bed. It was warmer, softer, and cozier. He opened his eyes to find color instead of the boring, white walls. He pushed out of bed and struggled to the sound of the pop music. Memories of yesterday floated in, especially of last night when he remembered loud noises of someone failing to sneak out quietly. Struggling, he made his way to the source of food, glancing at a clock that read 5:30. Why is anyone up this early? To answer his question, Sakura calmly walked out her bedroom, dressed in a pressed uniform and clean smelling. The air around her mistook her for someone with extreme importance, not something for a nurse.

The music changed to a soft rap, and Sakura stiffened with a grimace but continued down the hall to the stairs. Optimus followed at his own pace. The spiral staircase took too much effort not to fall down. By the middle, he sat down for a breather. He needed to be in better shape, he thought as he studied the room around him. This room had to be the most decorative room they had. The light gray ceramic tile covered the ground under thick rugs placed at the foot of the stairs and at the door leading to the downstairs hall. The stairs themselves were supported with carved iron. The walls were an off gray, adding to the color scheme. But none of this added to the back wall. The entire wall was a large window staring at the expansive herbal garden in the backyard. For no flowers, the garden still had a sense of beauty.

Was that "The Macarena"? Quickly, he stood and continued his trek to the smell of food. Ratchet stumbled down the stairs after him with sleep in his eyes. He rubbed his eyes and yawned before helping his commander down the rest of the steps. He led him down the dull, off-white hallway. As they passed the bathroom, they heard water running, and light seeped from the crack at the bottom. When they arrived at the main room, they noticed Sakura had sat down on at the table, eating breakfast with Melinda, but Bee wasn't on the couch anymore.

An awful sounding music started to play, and the singers gasped to a beat. Melinda grinned and mouthed along to the song, but Sakura grimaced again. "Why do you have to play this song this early in the morning?" she complained.

"Because it's awesome! 'Count bodies like sheep to the rhythm of the war drum!'" she sang along. "Come get food and stop staring like that!" she announced loudly to the two standing in the doorway. A sudden _thud, smack, slide_ caught everyone's attention. "It came from the bathroom," Melinda told Sakura before stuffing her fried egg into her mouth and standing. Sakura immediately stood up and hurried to the bathroom in the hallway, and Melinda followed at a more leisure pace. The music changed to a soft, foreign rock song. "The water's still running, but there isn't any movement. Sunshine?"

Sakura sighed as she pressed her ear to the door to confirm the statement. She muttered something under her breath and tensed her grasp on the door handle. "Get your friend out of there before he drowns."

"What happened?" Melinda asked.

"He passed out. Who locks his knees in a shower?" Sakura asked the air. Immediately, Ratchet pushed Sakura out of the way and barged into the cream-color-based, tiled bathroom. Optimus followed. Ratchet flipped the water off and heaved the body out of the cream-colored bathtub, and sat on the toilet lid. Indignant, he grabbed a towel and threw it into Bee's lap as Sakura entered. Unfazed, Sakura weaved through the crowded bathroom and pulled out a first aid kit from the medicine cabinet by the sink. Bee scrunched his face as he slowly came to; "Someone to Die For" by Jimmy Gnecco began to play. Sakura sat down on the floor, eating up floor space, and opened the first aid kit. It was when she paused to examine him that her eyes rounded with many emotions. She cautiously pressed her finger down the burn mark on his upper arm.

"What?" Melinda asked from outside the door, hidden from view. The silence must have alerted her. Optimus shifted uneasily as part of their secret came to surface, but these were citizens with no knowledge of Sector 7. Unless they actually looked into it, they wouldn't know anything about the Autobots. What if they did look it up? How could they look it up?

"He has a brand mark on his body," Sakura called back. A soft thud on the wall. Thoughtful silence. The song changed. Sakura pressed her hand against Bee's forehead, and Bee blearily swatted the offending hand away. Sakura grunted and placed her hand back on his forehead and swatted his hand back down.

"Is he decent?" Melinda asked.

Sakura's eye twitched as she forced a burn ointment on a strip of gauze. "That's so juvenile, Melinda!" she yelled as she placed the gauze on the burn. Something ricocheted off a bathroom wall and smacked into the back of Sakura's head. An orange rolled innocently away. Sakura picked up the orange in her hand and tossed it up a couple of times. Suddenly, she released it back on the course it came from. "You're forty-one years old, Melinda! Act your age!" The response came back as a knife sinking into the bathroom door with a soft thud. "We have to resell this piece of crap of a house, so quit ruining it!"

"Why is it juvenile for me to care about someone's privacy?" she asked as she wedged the knife out of the door. "I'll buy you a new door, how's that sound? Oh, I never introduced you to them, have I? The cute blond one is Sunshine, and the tall one is NBA, the older blonde is Fangs, and … Where's Trigger-Happy?"

Sakura studied the three before stilling. "What time is it?"

"Yep. You're late."

Sakura paled and rushed through the door, earning a yelp from Melinda, who was still trying with the knife. The door groaned and swung with Melinda still attached. She glanced at the three still in the bathroom, and her eyes immediately went to the wounds she didn't see yesterday. Weakly, she removed herself from the door and ran from the room with her mouth covered, gagging.

—New Scene—

Thundercracker and Starscream watched at a distance as a dark emotion swept over Sector Seven's base. The workers moved more lethargically, no one harassed any of the Decepticons, and Simmons seemed bent on destroying his office as he threw things around, startling the workers to move more carefully. The dark cloud refused to budge, so the Decepticons regrouped before the emotions affected them as well. "What's got them so glum?" Thundercracker finally asked.

"They lost some wench with spark residue," Starscream replied. It puzzled him that the humans found such a thing. How did this woman receive spark residue? When did she get it? "And they also lost the human Autobots."

"Allspark residue?" he asked, bringing another concern to light. The humans said that she had the residue, but it quickly faded after her long stay in the hospital, being away from whatever the source was. This only concluded she didn't produce the residue herself, but they still weren't sure what caused the residue. "I mean, all that power had to go somewhere." Yet another concern. If she unknowingly has whatever the Allspark is using as a new vessel, she could be in constant contact. The Allspark couldn't have been destroyed. Energy can't be destroyed; it's the laws of physics.

"They weren't sure. Besides, why would the Allspark choose such a pathetic, weak vessel?"

Thundercracker shrugged, deep in thought. "I'm just asking, where did all that power go to?" A pause. "What if it's not Allspark but just a spark's residue?" Starscream grew dizzy at the implications and all the faults in this statement.

"We need to look into this woman of theirs. I have my own questions to ask her. Where's Barricade?"

—New Scene—

Melinda bounced her head slightly to the song playing as the four finished eating breakfast. Her scars looked angrier after this morning's episode, and her eyes spun with thought, dark thoughts. She didn't say anything to them after Sakura left. The happy bounce had disappeared. It was an unnerving change. It couldn't be natural for moods to change so quickly. Suddenly she got up and started to put away the food and wash the dishes, mechanically. She hummed slightly, but nothing cheerful. Unsure of what to do, Optimus collected his plate and glass and brought them to the sink. Melinda took them without registering anything.

"Stupid Girl" by Garbage played. The others brought their plates to her, but they received the same emotionless response. Irritated, Ironhide waved his hand in her face. Her eyes snapped as she grabbed the offending appendage. Wearily, she scanned the room, perplexed at how things changed without her knowing. She dropped a plate with a clatter and replaced it with a rag. Almost smiling, she placed the rag in Ironhide's hand still in her grasp and let go of his hand. She returned to her unhopeful humming and the dishes. Bee snickered. Confused, Ironhide held the damp rag in his hand and stared at it. Finally, the implication hit him, and he snarled indignant. Melinda cried in surprise and smashed a plate to his temple. He staggered at impact.

Melinda tensed, turned off the water, and fled the room. Music changed to a techno, but Ratchet turned it off. Indecision swept over the room; no one moved. Finally, Ironhide slapped the rag in the sink and chased after the woman. He couldn't remember which way the steps took off, but after racking his memory, he remembered no footsteps at all, like a phantom. He took off up the stairs and searched every room. She couldn't be found. A soft breeze played with her curtains and caught his attention. She had climbed out the window. He leaned out the window, half expecting a rope, but there was no rope, and the German-style roofing seemed clawed at. (That's when there's a small bit of roof separating the first and second floor and wrapping around the house.)

Disheartened, Ironhide returned to the main room. The others were finishing the dishes dutifully. They stopped to see Ironhide alone and gazed at the bump forming on his temple. Ratchet pulled out a plastic bag from under the sink and filled it with ice from the freezer, and then he wrapped it with a clean rag and handed it to Ironhide. Ironhide placed it gingerly on the sore temple. Snickering, Bee handed him another rag. He slapped it on the table as he passed it and laid on the couch. Drowsily, he slipped his eyes closed. Frantic hands shook him awake. _You can't sleep with a possible concussion! You might slip into a coma!_ Ironhide jerked up and swatted the offending hands away. A fuzzy image of Ratchet slowly came to focus. Ironhide groaned that he couldn't sleep. He felt so tired.

An image of Melinda cleared his mind a bit. Is she safe? Does she hate him? The others finished the kitchen and joined him in the living room. Everyone was weary to touch anything in the foreign environment. The hours ticked by with everyone lost in thought. Suddenly the radio by the TV blared to life. "Man, you people have boring lives. And you insist on stinking up my house! Bathe already!" Everyone turned to see a dirty Melinda leaned against the doorframe with a remote in one hand and a large textbook in the other. She glanced at the cleaned kitchen, and her expression softened. "Thanks." Again, no footsteps, no flopping of her over-sized boots. She smelled familiar but foul. With her airy walk, she crossed into the kitchen and pulled out two slices of pizza from the fridge. She plopped them in the microwave and dug into the cabinets for her chocolate. Ironhide stood and walked towards her with the best pleading look he could muster. He stopped as she flinched. She rolled up her eyes as she tossed a chocolate nugget into her mouth, and her legs seemed to cave under her.

Another techno beat played. Ironhide reached out to keep her from falling, but she clumsily stepped away from him, bent on staying away. One of her feet slipped, and she cried as gravity took over. Ironhide grabbed her before she hit the ground. Disoriented, she looked up at her savior with chocolate drooling from her mouth. This couldn't be regular chocolate. It had to be laced with something. Regular chocolate couldn't do this to people. Melinda's eyes remained unfocused as she melted the chocolate in her mouth. Alarmed, Ironhide looked at Bee, who had ventured closer to see the damage. He looked quizzically at Ironhide. Don't eat the chocolate.

The microwave beeped saying it's job was done. Melinda's eyes snapped open, and she broke away from Ironhide's hold. Her legs were still weak from… whatever just happened. Still, she climbed up the fridge and clawed out a bag of …frozen meat chips? She swallowed the chocolate in her mouth and licked the drool from her face. She stopped and stared at the microwave, which was behind Ironhide. Ironhide stared at the pizza and decided he was hungry. He pulled out the slices and took out a bite from one and returned to the living room. He could feel the death glare penetrating his skull. Then, it disappeared. He looked back, and Melinda was gone. Bee appeared with his ice-water bag, which he'd dropped in the excitement. The sliding glass door in the staircase room slid open and closed, the only indication of where Melinda disappeared to. Ironhide traded a slice of pizza for his ice-water bag. Silently, Ratchet and Optimus expressed their disproval of the scene that had played before them.

Optimus glanced at the textbook on the counter. It was an American Sign Language book. He quickly flipped through the pages, memorizing as much information as possible. They would have a way of communicating.

…

Later that evening, Melinda reappeared to cook dinner. Her clothes were still dirty, but she smelled sweeter. They had taken her advice and bathed. A soft rock song cried out in the background. Sakura slammed the door behind her as she entered. She sniffed the air and sighed. "What is that I'm smelling?"

Melinda looked up startled, as if she didn't hear her enter. "Spaghetti, meat sauce, garlic bread sticks, and fresh salads with dressings. Take your pick."

Dinner tasted wonderful. The flavors blended together into a wonderful experience. With full stomachs, they slept heavily.


	9. Day 2

**I do not own the movie **_**I, Robot**_**, nor do I own any music mention. **

-

Mikaela sighed and dropped her head on the window's glass, peering out to see the neighborhood zoom by, and she tried to drown out the racket happening around her. It was too early for this. This sucked. She frowned. It wasn't anyone's fault, but she wanted to blame someone, particularly Sam. A paper plane landed on her lap, and she ignored it and the crude language around her. Ever since Bee and the other Autobots lost against the Decepticons, Sam and she had to ride the bus. It. Sucked. Sam and Mikaela rode Bee to school everyday, but now with him gone, their main choice of travel disappeared, leaving the bus as the only option. Mikaela and Sam weren't even on the same bus route, meaning they weren't on the same bus!

Groaning, Mikaela thunked her head on the window a couple of times, earning stares, but she didn't care. She stopped as a blur caught her attention. Perplexed, she watched as a neighbor acrobatically swung her body from a window on the side of the house, of the garage, and landed on the small roofing on the front of an open window above the garage. The neighbor slipped slightly on the tilted surface but clung to the window frame and tumbled into the open window. Well. There were advantages to riding the bus: watching the insane neighbors.

—New Scene—

The next day started like the last: blaring music at five in the morning but a large, delicious breakfast to make up for it. Melinda and Sakura fought with each other, until Melinda reminded Sakura that she was late for work again, and Sakura rushed out of the house. Though Sakura did mention that she thought Ratchet was cute before she left. Melinda wore another worn out hoodie and jeans combo with her oversized boots. She hummed the goofy tune of the song playing as she finished washing the dishes. The former transformers crashed on the couch, still unsure what to do. They felt like they didn't belong and shouldn't touch anything. Everything felt taboo, so they continued to stare at each other.

As she finished the dishes, the phone rang. She stopped humming and picked it up. "Hello?" Her eyes grew wide and she sank slowly against the wall then to floor in surprise. "This is she," she said as a genuine smile grew across her face. It was first time the Autobots ever saw a real smile, and it looked odd between two hideous scars. The person on the other line talked and talked for a full five minutes, and Melinda listened, giggling and mock-scolding the person. After a while, the other person had to leave, and the smile on Melinda's face dropped immediately. "Okay, bye, Mommy loves you," she said really fast. When the other person hung up, Melinda sighed, ended the call, and pressed the phone to her chest. Bumblebee stood up as her face scrunched up in sadness, but she didn't cry. Instead, she stood, slammed the phone back into the cradle, and took off for the door. "Sweet Dreams" by Eurythmics played as she grabbed binders from one of the cabinets. "I have work today, so you'll be on your own." With that, she left. Wearing worn out clothes to work.

Mommy? She was a mother? This raised many questions, like why isn't she with her kid and where's the dad? Is the dad with the kid? Where is the kid? But the Autobots had no way of raising these questions to her. It would have to wait until she returned and after they memorized the signs for such a conversation.

Like yesterday, Ratchet turned the radio off. Silence engulfed them terribly, and Ironhide cracked under it and fumbled around the entertainment center. He opened a small door and found many game station games. He pulled out a shooting game and searched for the station. When he had found it, he shoved the disc inside and picked up a remote. Soon, after he learned the controls, he erased the high scores with his own.

After watching for four hours, Ratchet was bored. Ironhide's action had broken the ice, and the Autobots didn't feel like they didn't belong anymore. They began to spread out and find something to do. Bee stayed and watched Ironhide play, but Optimus left with Ratchet. Ratchet skimmed the hallways with interest. Everything was neat and tidy, obviously the nurse's influence. Melinda didn't seem to be the neat and tidy type. He tried a couple of doors down the hallway, but the doors were lock. Oh yeah, Melinda said the doors were locked. Memories of yesterday floated up as he passed the bathroom where Bee had passed out. Then, he found the laundry room. Not interested, he continued into the stairway room. He paused to take in the garden. Half the plants he couldn't recognize, but he really didn't pay attention to vegetation; however, he did recognize some of the herbs and something that looked like a tropical Venus flytrap, which didn't make sense in this climate. The thick vegetation grew sporadically in clumps, and weeding didn't seem to be Melinda's main concern as grass grew everywhere.

He climbed up the decorated stairs to the second story. Upstairs, he settled in the study room. The room seemed too bare to be called a study. A computer desk sat in the corner with stacks of computer games, and a bare, tall, metal bookcase leaned against the adjacent wall. In one corner, a fake fireplace consumed space with two large, stuffed chairs surrounding it. A tacky, orange rug covered the floor, and a small coffee table with various magazines on it ate up the rest of the space.

The bookcase had few books for selection, and the majority of the books were medical research and a couple of how-to books, most involving cars. Two thick novels sat away from the others. Ratchet picked up the one on the left with the title _Distrustful Love Journey_ by Melinda Cold. The artwork was grotesque with dark colors and the lettering stretched over it. The pizza delivery boy said something about this book, but Ratchet couldn't remember. The other book was titled _Shadow Suicidal End_ by Melinda Cold. The artwork was just as grotesque but with more cheerful colors like orange. A small obscure note read at the bottom, "Sequel to the acclaimed _Distrustful Love Journey_.

To ease his boredom, Ratchet decided to read the first novel. He looked back at the door and realized Optimus had disappeared. Shrugging, he plopped down on one of the chairs by the lifeless fireplace. He skimmed through the first pages of copyrights and the praises of the book and read under chapter one. The book started off asking about life among the stars and answering it hypothetically with a fictional planet and government. It dragged on about a cruel tyranny and a people under its control struggling for a day just to drink and brawl recklessly without the hassle of abiding to the lizard-like tyrant. Uninterested, he flipped a couple of pages and skimmed the page… finding a sex scene. Alarmed, he flipped a chunk of pages and found an "I" character… in another sex scene. Beyond upset, he flipped to the other half of the book. He found the "I" character has found her way to Earth and tries to mingle with the humans; of course, they reject her and call her a demon, and she becomes distraught. Ratchet flipped another chunk of pages, and guess what… another sex scene! Sighing, he dropped the book on the floor.

Reluctantly, he picked it up and read the praises, hoping for an explanation. "…This book is the mirror to the evil inside everyone's heart…" "…I felt thankful for everything I owned after reading this book…" "…The main character is a role model for anyone hurting…" "…My life was turned around after reading this book…" "…the darkness of the soul flees from the light…" Not satisfied, he flipped to the back where the author wrote a note explaining the book: "…My main inspiration for writing this book was when I got into dirty novels at age sixteen and never felt satisfied with the pathetic plotlines. I must admit I was young and rebellious to even consider reading those things. However, when I wrote a letter of complaint to one of the authors, he told me, "You think you could write a better romance novel? Then do it! I don't care!" So I did. Now my novel is better-selling than his. My other inspiration for the novel came from my own childhood. I based the plotline and characters closely to the things and people that I came into contact with a little Sci-Fi twist. A lot of my friends laughed at my interpretation of them."

He closed the book in thought. Where was the "darkness" in what he read, besides the tyrant? How much of the novel is based on her life? A silent groan scraped his throat, and he exchanged the novel for a medical research one and indulged on how complex the nervous system was.

-

The bustle of city life roared at him as he crept along the faded, brick walls of the ancient buildings. Cars honking, people yelling, babies screeching. Neon signs flashing, brightly-colored food stands calling, various people of various backgrounds mingling.

Simmons stalked his new found prey with interest. The readings from this woman with long, black hair were off the chart. Definite direct and constant contact with the aliens, but from whom? Barricade's residue wore off by now. She had to have something near or in her house for these kinds of readings. Somehow in this large crowd, the short woman sensed him and spun around to meet him. He grinned and waved innocently, slowly inching closer. Stiffly, she crouched into a more defensive pose. When he was within talking distance, he smiled charmingly and asked, "Good morning, fine lady. Isn't it a glorious day? The extreme heat has left us it seems."

Her eyes twitched in distrust. "Whatever you want, the answer is no. Now leave me alone before I call the cops on you." Hatred oozed in her voice.

He frowned, offended. Cautiously he took in his surroundings. Two steps away sat a parked, empty police car. He couldn't recognize the model, but nothing else sprung out as suspicious. With expert movement, he slammed the woman's face into the hood of the car and pulled out his badge. She moaned in pain and struggled against his grip. Quickly, he immobilized her hands by holding both of them in his own. She was a small woman, he noted. "See this?" he asked, placing his Sector Seven badge in front of her face. "This is a do-whatever-I-want-and-get-away-with-it badge. Now, I suggest you cooperate with me."

She let out a small laugh. "Sector 7 was disbanded from the government a year ago. That badge holds no power anymore." She pressed her knees against the front bumper and forcibly pushed off, and Simmons lost his hold on her. He tsk-ed in irritation.

"Do you really want to get on my bad side?" he growled, grabbing roughly her shoulders. Just his luck, a Good Samaritan appeared on the scene.

The Good Samaritan, wearing black, was only in his twenties but anything that could be was pierced. He studied the situation carefully. "Hey man," he called out in a hoarse voice, "what are you doing to that lady? It's disrespectful to throw a lady into the hood of a car, ya know." When Simmons didn't budge, the "Good Samaritan" pulled out a blade. "That means let go of her, you dim-wit." Simmons eyed the tiny blade and regretfully released his hard-earned prey. He knew where to find her, and he could always return. Sourly defeated he stalked off and watched as his prey thanked the new man kindly and disappeared quickly into the large crowd. He could always find her now that he knew her schedule.

-

Five hours later, the Autobots had remembered Melinda's scold of their hygiene and had showered, but no one knew where Ratchet disappeared to. Ironhide had found a new shooting game with higher high scores to demolish, but steadily, he worked at it. This game was more difficult than the last.

At three o'clock, Ironhide had overridden only two scores with his own. Suddenly the front door slammed closed, and a cabinet squealed. Startled, the Autobots searched for whatever instigated the noise, but nothing came up. Sighing, Bee closed the opened cabinet but stopped when he recognized the cabinet for being the one with the drugged chocolate. Optimus picked up a movie rental from the counter. Doing the math, Ironhide opened the door to the cabinet where Melinda pulled the binders from, but it was empty.

The implications sunk in, and panic filled them as they searched the house for whomever entered. Bee somehow found himself standing outside the closed door of Melinda's bedroom. Wasn't it open earlier? Hesitantly, he pushed the door open and found Melinda sitting against the bed with the familiar drugged look on her face. He knocked on the door but received no response from the limp body. Cautiously, he stepped towards her, remembering what happened to Ironhide yesterday. Her eyes flickered at him briefly before remaining dull. So she was alive. Relief consumed his body as it suddenly collapsed. When they heard the crash, the others rushed in and helped him to a sitting position. His legs were still too weak for his liking, but at least he was making some progress. Silently, the three dragged him out to leave Melinda alone.

Eventually, Melinda floated into the main room where Ironhide had managed to override two more high scores. "Hey, what are you doing to my high scores?" she asked, frightening everyone with her silent entrance. Ironhide dropped the controller in fear and lost the round. She floated to the coffee table where the other shooting game sat and picked the game up. "Did you beat this game too?" she asked in interest. Ironhide nodded, and Melinda smiled. "Sakura won't be happy with you, but what's life without a little entertainment?" She flowed to the kitchen and picked up the movie rental. Silently grunting, Ironhide shut the game off and prepared the systems for a DVD. "Thank you," she said as she placed the DVD inside the player.

Ratchet glanced at the title of the movie _I, Robot_. How boring-looking. "My seat, move please," she shooed Ironhide out of the seat nearest the TV. Ironhide scooted one seat over, pushing Bee to the other edge of the couch. Then, Melinda dimmed the lights and sat down.

Ironhide watched the first few minutes in boredom. It was another movie about advanced technology in the future, no flying cars though. Hey, was that Sam Witwicky? What was Sam Witwicky doing in a movie? "Sam" left the screen after the cop told him to go home. Soon after, Ironhide's interest faded again. His attention drifted to the hair of the person in front of him: Melinda. The TV lights reflected into her hair in glimmers. Her hair was so shiny-looking. She looked uptight sitting straight. What does shiny feel like? The desire to know the texture of her hair overcame him. He reached out and caressed her soft hair. She looked at him quizzically and distrustfully but soon returned her attention back to the movie. Ironhide noticed she seemed more slacked. Again, he reached out and petted her hair, loving the stark contrast between his rough hand and her smooth hair. She shifted slightly under the attention but didn't stop it. Ironhide paused as an explosion caught his attention. Suddenly, Melinda collapsed on him, and he freaked slightly until a slight snore caught his attention. He blinked, unsure of what to do. His arm waved around the air as he tried to find a place to put it. He pulled the heavy body closer to him and placed his arm across her stomach in a comfortable position. She felt warm and comfortable against him, and he assumed he liked it, but he didn't understand the situation at all. To better understand the situation, he started petting Bee's coarser hair. Bee stared quizzically at him and failed at regaining his attention on the movie. A few minutes later, Bee passed out against the couch. Huh.

Thirty minutes later, Melinda shot up disoriented and ran into the coffee table with a cry of pain. She stayed on the floor making muffled noises for half of a minute, earning worried stares. Quickly, she stood up and sat down on her seat as if nothing happened with even more worried stares following her. She ignored them and watched the movie. The lock outside the door jiggled slightly before the door revealed Sakura standing outside. She flipped the lights to full power and grimaced at the riot scene on the screen. "Another "humans are doomed if we create advanced technology" movie?" Sakura asked with a sneer.

"I forgive you for being so closed-minded, but if I tell you the theme, I'll give away the movie."

Sakura snarled. "When was the last time you took any medication?" She wiggled the bottle of pills. "I'm not dealing with you un-medicated."

"Two days ago. Why?" She complained. Sakura tossed her the bottle, and Melinda popped a pill.

"I prefer not to go mad like you," she replied darkly. "You're supposed to take one a day. If you don't take these on a regular basis, we'll have to up your medication. Think about it." Melinda tossed the bottle back, and Sakura placed it back on the counter. She studied the credits. "How long was that movie?"

"One hundred-fourteen minutes," Melinda read off the back cover. "Why?"

Sakura scrunched her face in concentration, adding numbers. "You didn't go to work today, did you? You didn't have enough time to rent a movie and watch it in the time given."

"Um, yeah," Melinda answered, looking away, "apparently, I forgot to call in that I was in the hospital, and they thought I was playing hooky again and… Theyfiredme," she finished quickly. "I was going around and looking for a new job, but I somehow ended up renting a movie." She shrugged.

A black aura surrounded Sakura, her eyes seemed to glow with rage, and her hair seemed to levitate. She cracked her knuckles in a menacing way. Melinda blinked, unfazed. Sakura tore away at her, screaming in rage. Sakura's nails extended above her head as she clawed down at Melinda, but Melinda's hands appeared around them and stopped them in mid-attack. She brought her knee up with a tremendous speed and struck Sakura in the throat. Sakura stopped her struggle to grab her closing throat and gagged. Melinda slid around Sakura as she collapsed on the ground. Sakura continued to gag as Melinda walked around her and into the kitchen. "So, I thinking fried chicken tonight. That sounds good? And perhaps someone should remind Sakura about her anger management problem."

Melinda blared the radio while she fried the chicken strips and mashed the potatoes. She also had two pots boiling of fresh string beans and fresh crowders. Instant gravy sat in the microwave patiently. Some high-strung techno beat played.

Sakura ate silently with the group, defeated. A large, dark bruise was beginning to form on her throat. The southern-style meal tasted delicious, but the Autobots feared their company and what they were capable of.

—Mr. Keller and Maggie—

John Keller stared at the woman in front of him, hoping for answers. Maggie stood erect and proud. "We've reviewed the security tapes, and they show that the Autobots left on their own will. But, we've found a blur that unlocked the doors and knocked out the guard. Even with our advanced technology, we haven't been able to clear the image for a face. It just moved too fast."

"So, the Autobots could be anywhere in the city. Why haven't they contacted anyone?"

"I don't know, sir. Maybe to protect us from Sector Seven."

"They should know that we can overpower Sector Seven."

"They also have family here."

Keller remained silent. "Understood. Have someone check up on their families."

—Autobots again—

Bumblebee woke with a jolt as Simmons grabbed him … but Simmons wasn't there. Weary, the young man let his eyes adjust to the darkness. He was asleep on the couch again. Ironhide and Ratchet took the couches in the study room, and Optimus claimed the spare bed. The scout suddenly felt alone. Silently, he maneuvered around the furniture and climbed the stairs. He was heading towards the bedroom when soothing arms wrapped themselves around him with a calming "Shh." He allowed the warmth to lead him to a bedroom, where he tumbled quickly back to sleep.


	10. Frisbee

**I'm sorry for the delay, but it's not as if I forgot about this story. (I had severe writer's block.) If you look back on past chapters, you'll see that I've cleaned up much of them and added some stuff to the story. You might be slightly confused with this chapter because of it.**

**Also, I've borrowed (with permission) some stuff from **_**Promise Not to Tell**_** by P.A.W.07. It's one of the greatest fics on this site.**

**-**

A young man's face blocked his view. The strangely familiar face's bored expression reflected his own. The shorthaired blonde man in front of him frowned with small lips underneath his high cheekbones. With a deep sigh, Bee erased the other man's existence from the glass. Another morning. Past the fog, he could see the large, deformed garden in the dark morning light. They needed to leave eventually.

This morning felt so strange because the usual music wasn't playing. The morning was silent for once. Of course, Bee knew he was the second person to wake up this morning, right after Melinda shoved him out her room. She was currently taking her shower. In a little while, Sakura would wake. Bee didn't know what to make of them. Melinda felt distantly open to him. She opened her home to them, but she had yet to try to make some sort of connection with any of the Autobots. She was an excellent host, and she served their needs well. He didn't know what to make of last night. Last night she soothed the nightmares away and treated him much like a mother would her son. Her bed was more comfortable than the couch, so he had spent the night. When the morning came, she treated him as she treated him the past two days, cold and distant. Like he cared. Sakura, he hated and avoided. She provided nothing for his comrades.

"The showers are open, you know," a voice from the balcony said, making him jump. He glanced up to see Melinda, dressed in a loose tank top and loose sweat pants, shaking water droplets from her hair into a towel. His eyes rested on the ugly scar that started on her left shoulder and traveled down to her elbow. He felt completely unsure what to do.

'Good morning,' he signed.

She paused and smiled. "Good morning to you, too. So you've been looking through that textbook, huh? I haven't had time to learn much of the language yet, but I can count to ten," she demonstrated with her free hand, "and I only remembered 'good morning' because it looks like you're flipping someone off in Italian." She dropped the towel on the balcony railing and traveled down the steps. "Really, go take a shower, or at least stop staring out the window." Bee didn't move. This mother role she had taken on had to stop. She didn't say anything about his behavior but entered the garden after flipping a switch on the wall that turned an outdoor light on. She stared through the windows at Bee, waiting for him to leave. He didn't, and she muttered something under her breath and turned to face the garden. Slowly, she stretched herself into a yoga position and stilled for a few moments. Why was she exercising after she took a shower? Over the course of an hour, her movements slowly picked up speed, and she threw in martial arts movements in the last half. Her movements turned swift and deadly. At one point, she attempted to climb the oak tree but failed miserably.

Sakura's alarm clock beeped loudly. Melinda stilled in mid-kick and dropped into a neutral stance. She went back to slow yoga stretches for another fifteen minutes and finally stopped. Lethargically, she, dripping with sweat, returned indoors and turned off the light. There was a faint grin on her face as she attempted to control her breathing. "Enjoying yourself?" She practically crawled up the steps, grabbed her towel, and locked herself in her room.

Could he move that quick one day? He hoped he returned to his old body before any skill like that could be mastered. Perhaps he should get his shower out of the way. Quietly he grabbed a clean set of clothes, walked himself to the downstairs bathroom, and took a shower.

When he emerged, breakfast was on the table, and everyone was eating. He noticed how easier walking was for him. He was learning! The kitchen counters looked more like a buffet line. Breakfast was quiet since Sakura held the remote to the stereo protectively to her chest. Soon, she left, actually on time today.

Melinda started cleaning up and said, "We're going out today, since you guys have been locked up in this house too long. It's not healthy. Suck in some city air; it'll do you good. So start taking showers." The others took her advice and took their showers quickly. Bee stayed and helped clean the kitchen. When everything was cleaned, she popped a pill into her mouth.

'What are you taking?' Bee signed. She stared quizzically at him, and he pointed at the pill bottle.

She stared thoughtfully at the bottle, contemplating on whether to answer his question. "Effexor," she finally said. That really didn't help Bee understand what it was, but he let the subject drop.

The others soon finished, and everyone was out the door.

—Decepticons—

"Soundwave, what's the problem?" asked Starscream when he noticed his lieutenant acting weird.

"Connection with Lazerbeak: terminated," came the monotonous reply. "Last image recorded: projectile weapon."

"What does this mean?" Thundercracker asked softly. "Did he at least find her residence?"

"All data lost," Soundwave complained. "Manual search required."

Starscream muttered under his breath, "Well, that's just peachy."

—Back to the Autobots—

Their "day out" consisted of following Melinda around as she hopelessly searched for a job. By midday, she achieved nothing. "Stupid economy," she muttered.

'What field is your education in?' Ratchet signed. He liked signing. It strengthened their fingers and helped with coordination. Aside from a few mishaps, no one could tell any constructive surgery was done on them. Melinda stared hopelessly at him. He sighed irritably. Thankfully, he had brought the book along and pointed to the words.

"Oh. Bachelor in psychology and a bachelor in child development. Not much openings for those kinds of careers here. I'm hungry." And with that abrupt conversation change, they ended up in an open-air restaurant on a street corner. Mindful that she was jobless, they ordered the cheapest items on the menu by pointing at the menus. She only ordered a chicken salad. The blonde waitress kept winking at Optimus, who dutifully ignored it. He knew Elita-One was still somewhere in the universe.

When the waitress returned, she passed out the meals, which mainly consisted of grilled chick, BBQ chicken, and fried chicken, but the fried catfish went to the "handsome man." Optimus tilted his head so that she couldn't see the color rising to his cheeks.

"You don't talk much do you?" She smiled sweetly at the tall man. Optimus just smiled back and rubbed the scar on his throat. Her eyes widened as she said dumbly, "Ohh." She turned her attention to Melinda and asked, "How did you get the privilege of having these escorts?"

Said woman swallowed what was in her mouth. "Recuperation project. They were part of the build up of the crash on Hillside Road."

The waitress looked horrified. "The one where the jet fell out of the sky and nose-dived into that eighteen wheeler's cab?" The Autobots suddenly found interest in lampposts, sidewalk cracks, dogs, etc. "I nearly cried when they filmed that police car swerve out of the way and pummeled into the yellow car. I just knew there was a teenager in that car when it tumbled down the cliff." Her eyes filled with tears. "It's just so sad to see young life die. And the horrible part was the ambulance getting caught in the explosion, and the build up pushing cars over the edge—"

"Please, the memories are still fresh on their minds," Melinda cut in sharply. The Autobots were distressed, but it wasn't because of "fresh memories." No, they just never understood the full impact of that battle. No one told them of the damage done, nor that it was filmed.

The waitress nodded fervently and said, "If you need anything, just let me know." Then, she retreated into the kitchen.

"When I know sign language better, we need to talk. Were you really in that crash?"

'Yes.'

"The police car wasn't in any of the reports. Was he really there?" The 'he' pronoun threw them off, but they still responded in the affirmative. What does she know about Barricade? The questioning stopped, and Melinda stared thoughtfully in the distance. "Do you know a kid named Sam Witwicky? He claimed to have known you."

She knows Sam, now? 'Yes.'

"Why…" she started but frowned. She made an irritable noise, not knowing how to word her question to a yes-or-no one.

The waitress returned and stood close to Optimus, asking, "Anybody need any refills?" No one's glass was close to the halfway mark. They shook their heads politely. Melinda let out a low whistle, eyes glued to a yellow European sports car stopped by the nearby light. "That's California for you. Everybody's got a Ferrari or something like it."

"I'll give you twenty bucks if you get his number for me," Melinda offered, eyes never leaving the car.

The waitress stilled, contemplating the offer. Twenty bucks had to be the largest tip she ever received in her career at this restaurant. As she went to cross the lane, Melinda tossed a twenty-dollar bill on the table. The girl got as far as knocking on the driver's window, when the light turned green, and the driver rudely sped off. Melinda pouted. "The pretty ones never have good personalities anyway." The waitress slouched as she returned, clearly embarrassed. Melinda grabbed her hand and slapped the twenty into it. She took it and sulked off. "I'm never going to be able to eat here again."

—New Scene—

Said European sports car was actually a Lamborghini Reventón, one of the twenty-one produced, though Audi AG didn't produce this one. He was used to superior designs, but this would do for his purposes. He was quite happy when the light turned green because the female human was smudging his window. He would have to use this planet's primitive ways of cleaning his exterior. He hated this primitive planet and its inferior life forms, but he couldn't leave, not yet anyway. This brought him to his current objective. **:Prowl, we've been practically around the entire planet. Jazz is not here. He would have contacted us by now:** the Lamborghini sent a message to the Nissan police car hiding in a nearby alleyway.

**:Sunstreaker, I can feel him in my very spark. He's on this planet. The Decepticons may have killed off the other Autobots, but Jazz is still alive:** a calm voice replied.

**:Is that why you're staking out a human fueling station:** the Lamborghini seethed, knowing what the answer would be. It was the same whenever Prowl was staking out a place.

**:I thought I sensed Jazz nearby:**

Oh, if he had eyes to roll. In actuality, he was worried for his superior officer. When they had landed on this forsaken planet, Prowl cracked. Nobody returned any form of contact. It didn't help that a stray satellite had knocked them off course and sent them in two different directions. Prowl had landed somewhere in Japan, while Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had landed near a small town in Italy. With much planning, the three somehow managed to send themselves overseas into a place called California, not that impressive of a place, in Sunstreaker's opinion. He saw what these humans did to cars here, and he refused to be in a place that would threaten his paint job. They've only been on this planet for less than a week, but the isolation took a toll on Prowl's CPU. He came with the hope of being reunited with his brother, but now Jazz was nowhere. No one was here. **:We've gone this far without the Decepticons finding us. Let's go back to that concrete building. Jazz obviously isn't here:**

**:He's in this city:**

**:I'm not arguing about that; I'm arguing about sanity:**

The Nissan finally pulled out and quietly followed the Lamborghini back to their makeshift base.

—Human Autobots—

They ended up in a large park after lunch. There, Melinda ran into Yusuke and another woman. "Keiko! Oh, it's been too long!" The women embraced each other firmly. Yusuke grabbed both women in a group hug and… sniffed Melinda's hair.

He grinned sheepishly. "You smell good today. You worked out this morning?" Keiko punched his arm, but Melinda slapped his face. "What was that for?" he screamed in pain as he held his cheek.

"You smelled me, you creep! Honestly, Keiko, how do you put up with him?" As comical as the scene was, people were staring, and that made the Autobots feel uncomfortable.

Keiko just sighed dreamily. "Out of all the Prince Charmings, I just had to pick him." She laughed. Yusuke grumbled to himself. Then, Keiko noticed the others. "Well, hello, I'm Keiko." She held out her hand. Optimus shook it.

"They're mute," Melinda explained when they didn't give their names, "so I gave them all new names. That's NBA, that's Sunshine, that's Fang, and that's Trigger-happy." She pointed to each as she said their given name.

Keiko stared intently into their faces. "I've seen you before. Have we met already?" All four shook their heads 'no.' "Hmm…"

"Are we going to look at each other all afternoon, or are we going to play some Frisbee?" Yusuke butted in irritably. He tossed a disk to Melinda, who caught it easily.

"Impatient," she replied snidely. She turned to the four Autobots. "You flick your wrist like this." She held the Frisbee and gave a few demo tosses without letting go of the disk. "Honestly Yusuke, Frisbee? What were you thinking?"

He crossed his arms defensively. "I was thinking about your little handicapped friends over there. I'm sorry if it's not challenging enough for the princess."

She shot him an ugly look. "Let's spread out." When everybody was in a large, deformed circle, she let the disk fly quick and hard into Yusuke's jaw.

"Seriously?"

"You're supposed to catch it, Yusuke."

In retaliation, he shot it high into the air, far above her reach. She ran backwards for a few steps and jumped high, her fingers just barely catching the lip. She smiled victoriously and gently tossed it toward Optimus. He caught it easily since, if he didn't, it would have hit him in the chest. "Whoo! Go NBA!" screamed Melinda, earning a few odd stares from some passersby. He held it awkwardly in his hand and tossed it to Ratchet, who was the closest person to him, but it veered far to the left and landed on the ground.

Keiko noted, "He's left handed."

The game continued for a few hours and mostly consisted of Melinda and Yusuke trying to kill each other with the piece of plastic, all in the name of fun, of course. Everybody was exhausted, and Melinda and Yusuke were pouring sweat because of their antics. Finally, Yusuke and Keiko said their goodbyes and left the group.

Melinda led the group home and immediately brought out a Chinese take-out menu. After pointing at the small print and correcting her guesses, the Autobots rested on the couches and waited for the food to arrive. "Nobody took you home today." They just stared at her as she picked up the sign language textbook and studied it. Sakura came home and went into hiding, until the food arrived. The take-out didn't taste nearly as good as Melinda's home-cooked meals. With food in their bellies, everybody went to their 'assigned' sleeping places. They fell asleep quickly.

Well, except Ironhide, who took the liberty of looking up the video of the crash. He muted it so that he wouldn't wake anyone. The video started by focusing on a dangerously low flying jet. The news reporter was probably telling the audience how low it was flying. Suddenly the jet dropped from view, and the screen dipped sharply to keep up with it. Within a second, the jet crashed into Optimus, and Ironhide watched Barricade veer sharply into Bumblebee, causing the scout to tumble over the cliff's edge. The police car followed after. That's when the gas tanks exploded, causing Optimus to roll over the edge with Starscream. Ironhide saw Ratchet's burnt husk as he was traveling at Optimus' side when the "accident" happened. In the background, various cars were braking and slamming into each other, and a few fell from the road. Ironhide finally found himself driving down the slope, since no car had careened into him. Then the army and the air force made their appearance and started cleaning the area from all the debris. The local police force and firefighters were helping victims from their cars and shoving them into ambulances. Ratchet was no longer on screen. The army had evacuated his body. The rest of the video was on the clean up process. It was a graphic video. He was thankful, though, that the camera operator never pointed the camera towards the fight happening at the bottom of the hill.

-

Bumblebee cried as Simmons haunted his dreams once more. As a robot, he went through much worse torture, so why was this incident draining him of sleep? He hated being human. Slowly he fell asleep again, but again the ex-agent haunted his dreams. He just wanted sleep!

"Do I encourage this behavior or shut you up so that I can sleep?" Bee shot up at the voice and saw an outline of an angry face at the foot of his bed. As his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, he recognized her as Melinda. Wait, shut up? He was making noises! "Well," she snapped impatiently. Bee tried to say something, anything, but no noise came out. He fell back on the couch, but Simmons' leering face was trapped in his mind. He heard a sigh and felt a hand on his own. "Come on. Let's get some sleep," she said softly. He resisted her; he could do this on his own! However, she had already tugged him off the couch and into a soothing embrace. The fear washed away, and he didn't want to leave, but he didn't like how dependent he was on her. Slowly, and with some encouragement with her tuneless humming, he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

-

**Tell me what you think! Does this forgive a year hiatus, or am I still hated?**


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